


The Wrong Sort

by oui_oui_mon_ami



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amortentia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Needs A Hug, First Kiss, Getting Together, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Multi, OOC, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, also i mentioned that the golden trio adopt draco but who else adopts him? the weasleys, by my standards i guess idk, i only know daniel radcliffe, joanne rowling whomst, maybe? - Freeform, or enemies to friends to enemies to friends to lovers, the golden trio adopt draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oui_oui_mon_ami/pseuds/oui_oui_mon_ami
Summary: On his first day at Hogwarts, Harry refuses a handshake.One year on, he accepts it.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 55
Kudos: 559





	1. Second Year

**Author's Note:**

> uhh pls forgive me i've never read the books but i've tried to draw some inspiration from them? i've read the plot summaries on wikipedia sooooo (also some of the stuff is from memory bc i cba to watch the later films again so details will probably be inaccurate lol) 
> 
> ALSO how is it that i can write a 30k+ fic in a week but struggle to write a 12k dissertation :(

_“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”_

_“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.”_

\---

Harry could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on him and Ron as they entered the Great Hall the morning after their disastrous journey to Hogwarts. The staring didn’t get much better after Ron received a Howler from Molly Weasley. In particular, Harry could tell that the students at the Slytherin table were sniggering at him. Business as usual then, he thought. What was unusual, though, was the fact that Draco Malfoy was no longer in his normal spot between Crabbe and Goyle but alone at the end of the table, staring at Harry with none of his usual cockiness. As a matter of fact, Harry remembered seeing him in a similar state in Flourish and Blotts the other day, sort of hiding behind his father and looking like he wanted to say something to him but was too afraid to.

Eventually Malfoy noticed Harry was staring back at him and very deliberately stared down at his plate for the remainder of breakfast. Harry didn’t think much of it, instead choosing to worry about his first class that morning.

During the first week of term, Harry was surprised to find that Malfoy didn’t once talk to him or tease him. He only saw Malfoy during the few classes they had together and in passing in the corridors. However, he was always alone and always looked rather miserable. Even when Flint introduced him as the new Slytherin Seeker, he seemed as though he wanted to be anywhere else but there. Again, Harry didn’t dwell on it, just pleased that he wasn’t constantly being teased this year.

And so Harry was taken rather by surprise one morning when Draco Malfoy sauntered up to him and his friends at the Gryffindor table with his usual cocky smirk. “Potter. Can I have a word?” he drawled.

Harry nodded warily.

“Alone,” Malfoy added, looking pointedly at Ron and Hermione.

“Whatever you want to say to Harry, you can say to us as well,” Ron said defensively.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Piss off, Weaselby. Or does Potter need a full-time bodyguard?”

“He does if you’re going to try and hex him again,” Hermione replied.

Malfoy glared at Hermione and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He put his wand in his pocket and raised his bare hands. “I won’t hex Potter. I won’t even touch him. You have my word. Happy now, Granger?”

Despite Ron’s muttering that he didn’t trust Malfoy any better, he and Hermione allowed Malfoy to lead Harry out of the Great Hall. As soon as they were in the stairway, Malfoy’s expression changed from one of sly confidence to one of anxiety as he quickly led Harry into an empty classroom and shut the door.

Harry gripped his wand suspiciously. “What is this about, Malfoy?” he asked.

“Let go of your wand, Potter,” Malfoy said without turning around. “I gave my word that I wouldn’t harm you, didn’t I?”

“And I trust your word about as far as I can throw you.”

Malfoy was avoiding looking at Harry, gaze darting around the classroom. “Look,” he said quietly. “I’d like to apologise.”

Harry blinked. “You what?”

Malfoy glared at him. “Don’t make me say it again. This is hard enough as it is.” Harry said nothing, but his grip on his wand tightened. “I made a lot of mistakes last year,” Malfoy continued. “Mostly in being a massive git.”

“You can say that again.”

“Shut up.” There was no real malice to his voice. “A lot happened over summer. Most of it is none of your business, but it put things into perspective. And I realised that Crabbe, Goyle and the others aren’t so great. I don’t want to be like them anymore. You were right, about knowing who ‘the wrong sort’ were.”

“So you want to be friends with me?” Harry assumed. “After everything that happened last year?”

Malfoy shrugged. “And with your friends. I understand if you don’t want to. But if you’d let me, I’d like to start over.”

Harry considered Malfoy for a moment. This seemed so unlike him. What if this was just some plan to trick Harry? What if Malfoy was just going to hex him again?

But what if he was telling the truth? Harry finally met Malfoy’s gaze. His greyish eyes were filled with… pain? Fear? Sadness?

Harry acted on instinct. He hoped it was the right choice.

He stretched his hand out towards Malfoy. “In that case, I’m Harry Potter.”

Malfoy’s eyes lit up for a split second before he shook Harry’s hand coolly. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Harry said, smiling. “Do you want to come back to the Gryffindor table for the rest of breakfast?”

“I’d like to see how your friends would react if I did,” Malfoy replied.

“Come on. I know you’ve been sitting by yourself.”

Malfoy sighed. “Fine.”

Unsurprisingly, Ron, Hermione and the other Gryffindors were stunned when Harry and Malfoy sat down at their table. Fortunately, none of them made a scene, and Malfoy was civil to all of them, but the atmosphere at the table was rather awkward. It was only when breakfast was over and they all went to their separate classes that Ron and Hermione started asking questions.

“Malfoy? Of all people, you decided to befriend _Malfoy_?”

“Are you just going to forget all of his taunting last year?”

“And we just have to be okay with this?”

“What happened when you talked to him? Did he put a spell on you or something? Are you feeling alright?”

“Okay, okay,” Harry raised his hand to shush them. “He apologised for last year. And he wanted to be friends. You’ve seen how he’s been all alone this year.”

“Maybe the Slytherins got some sense into their heads and realised how awful he is,” Ron muttered.

“He seemed sincere. I think he’s really changed. Just… trust me, okay? You don’t have to trust him, not yet, but please be civil. Besides, it might be good to be friends with someone who’s in Snape’s good books.”

Ron sighed but said nothing else. Hermione still looked uncertain, but nodded. “Okay. But if he does anything to us, I’m blaming you.”

\---

Malfoy started frequenting the Gryffindor table after that. He even apologised to Ron and Hermione for teasing them last year, and when the Neville, Seamus and the others saw that Malfoy was actually being _nice_ , if still a little cocky for their liking, they slowly accepted him into their group. Malfoy was even invited to Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday party.

The afternoon before the party, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Malfoy were in the library. “I have to tell you something,” Malfoy whispered.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Well, it’s about you, Potter. In truth, I wasn’t expecting to see you here this year. I thought I’d sent that house elf…”

“Dobby? You sent Dobby to my house?” Harry interrupted.

“Yes. I told him to keep you away from Hogwarts.”

“Why?” Harry said a little too loudly. He was met with several shushes from other students working nearby.

Malfoy looked around to make sure no one was still looking at them before replying. “Because I think you’re in danger.”

\---

“See? I told you it’d be useful to have Malfoy as an ally,” Harry said once they were back in the Gryffindor common room.

“Why did he wait until now to tell you about this?” Ron asked.

“He probably wanted to wait until we trusted him. Which we do now, right?”

“I guess,” Ron said reluctantly.

“The thing is, we only know that Lucius Malfoy is doing something shady,” Hermione said. “We don’t know any specifics. So we don’t know how best to protect you, Harry.”

“I guess we just have to be on our guard,” Harry said. “Come on, we need to get ready for the party.”

They forgot all about Lucius Malfoy as they prepared for Nearly Headless Nick’s party. However, the thought came back after not too long, when they found Mrs Norris petrified in the corridor.

“ _Enemies of the Heir, beware_?” Ron repeated the message written on the wall the next day. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait too long for their answer. And they quickly found Malfoy in the Great Hall, making awkward conversation with Seamus. “Are you the Heir of Slytherin?” Harry asked him as soon as they sat down.

Malfoy blinked. “Hello, nice to see you too,” he deadpanned.

“Hello,” Harry said. “Are you the Heir of Slytherin?”

“The _what_?”

“The person who can open the Chamber of Secrets and control the monster inside.”

“There’s a monster in the Chamber of Secrets?” Seamus asked, which caught the attention of Dean and Neville.

“That’s just a story,” Malfoy said. “Something my father told me. The Chamber was apparently opened about fifty years ago, and someone died, but it’s more of a ghost story than anything. Something he used in order to get me to behave. And no, I’m not the Heir of Slytherin. No doubt my father would use it to his advantage if I were.” He said the word ‘father’ as if there was a nasty taste in his mouth.

“Someone died?” Neville exclaimed.

“We have to find out who it is before they harm anyone else,” Hermione said. “Maybe it’s Snape?”

“No. As much as he hates you lot, Snape wouldn’t harm students. Or Mrs Norris,” Malfoy replied. “Look, it’s Christmas in a few weeks. I’ll try and see what my father is up to. Meanwhile, I think you need to keep yourselves out of trouble. All of you.”

When they left the Great Hall, Harry thought he saw Malfoy slip something into Hermione’s textbook. However, the thought of his next class quickly wiped the thought from his mind.

\---

The Basilisk was slain, Hermione and the other victims had recovered, and exams were cancelled. However, Harry didn’t quite feel like celebrating just yet.

He found Malfoy in the Quidditch stadium, sitting in the stalls looking onto the empty pitch. He sat down beside him.

“What do you want, Potter?” Malfoy said without turning his head.

“I wanted to thank you,” Harry replied. “I know you were the one who gave Hermione that page.”

Malfoy frowned at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut up, Malfoy, and take some credit.”

Malfoy turned back to the Quidditch field. “It was my fault she got petrified,” he said. “If I hadn’t…”

“If you hadn’t given her the page, Ginny and a lot more people would have died,” Harry interrupted. “Hermione knew what she was getting into. That’s why she brought that glass.”

They were silent for a little while. Finally, Malfoy mumbled, “I don’t want to go home.”

Harry looked over at him. His eyes were fixed firmly on the grass below. “I don’t want to go back to my aunt and uncle either,” he said. “Hogwarts is my home.”

“I think it’s mine, too. As much as I complain about the place.” Malfoy turned to Harry then, uncertainty written in his face. “Potter, did your uncle ever… hit you?”

Harry was surprised by this question. “Occasionally,” he replied. “Wait, Malfoy… did your father hit you? Is that what happened over the summer?”

Malfoy looked down. “Among other things. My father has always been… harsh. Not very loving. But last summer I guess I saw him in a different light. My so-called ‘friends’ ignoring me all through the holiday didn’t help either. How do you do it? How do you go back to your family and be civil with them?”

Harry could see that Malfoy was on the verge of tears. He placed a tentative hand on his arm. “It’s really hard sometimes. But I have to. I just think about coming back here. And the day I can finally move out of that house and never see them again.” He offered Malfoy a small smile. “And now you have real friends to look forward to seeing. You’ll write to me, yeah?”

Malfoy grimaced. “It might be hard. I hope you understand why I don’t want my father knowing how close I’ve become with you lot.”

Harry nodded sadly. “I do. Hey, how about we do some Seeker trials?”

“I don’t know. I feel like the only way I got on the Quidditch team was because of my father.”

Harry understood Malfoy’s hesitation. “I’ve seen you play. I’ve played against you. You’re really good. Great, even. I think you’d have made the team without your father’s help.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “I’ll take your word for it, I guess. Race you to the broom store?”

“You’re on.”


	2. Third Year

Harry, Hermione and Ron didn’t find Malfoy until the Hogwarts Express had left the station. Ron was the first to spot him, a flash of platinum blond hair further down the busy train car. “Malfoy!” he called, causing several people’s heads to turn.

Malfoy grinned as soon as he spotted the trio and pushed through the crowd of students to reach them. “Weasley. Granger. Potter.” He nodded at each of them in turn.

“Hello. How was your summer?” Ron asked.

Malfoy’s face paled slightly. “It was alright. Rather dull, to be honest,” he said hesitantly.

Noticing Malfoy’s discomfort, Harry decided to change the subject. “Shall we move further down the train? This car is far too crowded.”

They managed to find a compartment with only one other occupant, a sleeping man called R.J. Lupin according to his suitcase. “Harry, tell Malfoy about how you blew up your aunt,” Ron said.

Malfoy blinked. “You did _what_?”

“I may have accidentally inflated her and made her fly away,” Harry said. “But she deserved it!”

Malfoy laughed. “If only I could have seen that for myself. Did you get in trouble with the Ministry?”

“Strangely enough, the Minister let me off the hook.”

“I guess he has enough to worry about with Sirius Black on the loose,” Ron said.

“Speaking of which, I have to tell you something,” Harry said. He explained what Mr Weasley had told him about Sirius Black. Once he had finished, the other three sat in shocked silence.

“You don’t really think Black could enter Hogwarts, though?” Malfoy said eventually. “There must be charms all around the grounds to protect from unwanted visitors.”

“But no-one’s escaped from Azkaban before,” Ron countered. “He might know a way around the castle’s defences.”

“At least we have Dumbledore,” Hermione said. “Every dark wizard fears him. While he’s around, Harry’s safe. Or, at least, he should be.”

“That’s very reassuring. Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said.

As if on cue, the train jolted to a halt and the light in the compartment flickered out. Harry stuck his head out of the door and saw several other students doing the same.

“Maybe the train broke down?” Hermione suggested.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Of course, Granger. A magic train would obviously break down at no notice in the middle of nowhere.”

“Is it just me or has it suddenly got really cold?” Ron said.

Ron was right. Harry noticed the glass starting to fog up and his breath coming out in clouds. He sat back down. “I guess we just have to wait this out,” he said, tugging on his sweater.

After a few minutes, a shadow emerged outside the compartment door and the four conscious occupants jumped in fear. The door slid open, revealing a terrifying, floating figure that seemed to create a vacuum in the compartment. Before he could react, Harry suddenly felt the energy drained from him, and as he slipped into unconsciousness, he heard a high-pitched scream. _Probably Malfoy_ , he thought.

\---

“Here, eat this. You’ll feel better.”

Harry opened his eyes to something being offered to him.

“Don’t worry, it’s only chocolate.”

“It’s good,” he heard Ron say.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Give him a bit of space,” said a voice Harry didn’t recognise.

“What was that?” Harry said, taking the chocolate and sitting up.

“That was a Dementor,” said the voice. Harry could now see that it belonged to the fifth occupant of the compartment, R.J. Lupin. “It was searching the train for Sirius Black. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a word with the driver.” He left the compartment, but not before telling Harry to eat some more of his chocolate.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Ron asked. “Malfoy almost had a heart attack when you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Shut up, Weasley.” Malfoy glared at him.

“Was that you screaming, then?” Harry asked.

“What? I didn’t scream. I don’t scream.”

“Tell that to you in the Forbidden Forest in first year,” Harry said. “There was definitely someone screaming. I heard it just before I fainted.”

Hermione frowned. “No one screamed, Harry.”

\---

“Potter. I know you’re there.”

Harry turned around to see Malfoy looking at him with an unimpressed expression. He glanced around to check if anyone else was watching before taking off the Invisibility Cloak. “How did you know?”

“Your cloak can’t hide your footprints,” Malfoy said, glancing down at Harry’s very obvious footprints in the snow.

“Oh. Right.”

Malfoy holds out a bag. “Do you want a toffee? I nicked them off Goyle earlier.”

“Stealing is wrong,” Harry said, but took a toffee anyway.

“I’m a Slytherin. It’s in my nature.” Malfoy shrugged. Suddenly, he frowned. “Look.”

Harry turned. He spotted Ron and Hermione in the distance, near the Shrieking Shack. They were talking to three figures Harry recognised as Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise Zabini. He could hear the Slytherins laughing at them. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak around him again. “Let’s chase them off.”

“With pleasure,” Malfoy said.

They hurried towards their friends, Harry stepping in Malfoy’s footprints so that he wasn’t so obvious. Blaise was the first to spot Malfoy. “Hey, Weasley. Granger. It’s your pet Slytherin coming to the rescue,” he jeered.

“Piss off, Zabini,” Malfoy hissed.

“Come on, Draco. You used to think this was fun. What happened to make you go soft?”

“I’m warning you.”

Blaise laughed. “Tough talk. Really though, what changed? Do you fancy Granger? Is that why you started sympathising with mudbloods?”

Malfoy’s expression darkened. “Shut up.”

“Or maybe it’s your crush on Potter. You two are rather close now. Do you miss him?”

With that, Malfoy pulled out his wand and aimed it at the boys. “I said shut up!”

The three of them laughed again. “Like you’d hex any of us. I know where your loyalties truly lie.”

Suddenly, a snowball arced over Malfoy’s head and hit Blaise’s face with a hard _thump_. Two more snowballs followed that hit Crabbe and Goyle, sending them running for the castle. Blaise fell to the ground and appeared to be dragged towards the Shrieking Shack before scrambling to his feet and following the other two. Ron, Hermione, and Draco watched them escape, laughing. “Harry!” Hermione called out.

Harry finally emerged from under the Invisibility Cloak. “Hello.”

“You really shouldn’t be here,” she said. “It’s against the rules.”

“So I can’t come and rescue my friends from a few nasty Slytherins?” He turned to Malfoy. “No offence.”

“None taken.”

\---

“Come on, you lot. I’ve got sommat great to show you.” Hagrid led the third-years into the forest and whistled. “This…” he gestured to a creature emerging from the trees, “is Buckbeak.”

Harry and the other students stared wide-eyed at the creature, which seemed to be a mixture of a horse and an eagle.

“Buckbeak is a hippogriff. Hippogriffs are very proud creatures. You do not want to insult them, or it could be the last thing you do.”

“You hear that, Malfoy?” Ron whispered playfully. Malfoy elbowed him lightly.

“Now, who wants to say hello?” Hagrid asked. Harry found himself pushed to the front of the group as the rest of the students hurried backwards. “Harry, good lad. Come on then. Step forward, and give a nice, low bow. If he bows back, you can go and pet him. If he doesn’t… well, we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”

Harry stepped forward hesitantly, casting a last look back at Hermione, Ron and Malfoy, who were watching him worriedly. He bowed, and was relieved when Buckbeak bowed in return.

“Very good, Harry!” Hagrid exclaimed. “Now you can pet him.”

Harry approached the hippogriff slowly, his hand outstretched. Buckbeak regarded him curiously before butting his hand. Harry smiled as the hippogriff allowed him to stroke his head.

“Good! Very good! I suspect he’ll let you ride him now.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed. Before he knew it Hagrid had hoisted him up and dropped him on Buckbeak’s back. Taken by surprise, Buckbeak bolted, racing past the other students before flapping his wings and flying into the air. Harry cried out, watching his friends on the ground get smaller and smaller. Then he realised that flying a hippogriff was fairly similar to riding a broom, if slightly more temperamental.

Eventually, Buckbeak landed back in the woods and Harry slid off his back as the students applauded. “Well done Harry!” Hagrid cried. “And well done Buckbeak! Now, does anyone else want to have a go?”

“I will,” Malfoy said, sauntering forward confidently. “This hippogriff business seems easy enough.”

“Approach him slowly, Malfoy,” Hagrid warned, but it was too late. Buckbeak started snapping and rearing, and struck Malfoy to the floor. Hagrid had to chase him off with a dead ferret.

“Hagrid!” Hermione shouted. “He has to be taken to Madam Pomfrey!”

“You’re right. I’ll do it,” Hagrid said, scooping up the whimpering Malfoy and carrying him out of the forest. “Class dismissed.”

\---

Fortunately, it was just Malfoy’s arm that was injured, and Madam Pomfrey had bandaged it up and sent him on his way within half an hour. While Hermione had a class to get to, Harry and Ron decided to stay with Malfoy.

“Did you really have to do it, though?” Ron asked as they left the infirmary. “It’s like you’re still trying to compete with Harry. We’re friends now, isn’t that enough?”

Malfoy scowled at him. “I don’t compete with Potter.”

“Oh really? Why is he the first person whose grades you ask about when we get tests back? Why do you always train harder when you know you’re playing Quidditch against Gryffindor?” He smirked. “Why did you deliberately take almost all the same classes as him this year?”

“It’s a coincidence,” Malfoy spat out, glaring at him. “I don’t compete with Potter,” he repeated. “We may have a friendly rivalry, but it’s nothing compared to you and Granger.”

“Leave me and Hermione out of this. Especially since her cat’s done something with Scabbers.”

Malfoy ignored Ron’s complaints. “I already know I’m better than Potter anyway.”

“Not at Care of Magical Creatures, evidently,” Harry said, nodding at Malfoy’s bandaged arm.

“Shut up, Potter.”

“Is your arm alright?”

“It doesn’t hurt too badly,” Malfoy replied. “What I’m more worried about is my father hearing about all this. He’d undoubtedly use it to get Hagrid out of the job.”

Malfoy turned out to be right. It didn’t take long for Lucius Malfoy to learn about what had happened and he immediately filed a lawsuit against the hippogriff. Harry thought that that was ridiculous – people shouldn’t be able to sue animals. But they soon learned from Hagrid after the trial that the outcome was worse than him losing his job.

“I feel terrible,” Malfoy said miserable. “This is all my fault.”

“No it’s not,” Ron said reassuringly. “It’s yours and your dad’s fault.”

“Thanks, Weasley.”

“Is there any way you could get your dad to override the verdict? Maybe he can talk to the minister?”

Harry noticed Malfoy’s expression shift. “Once my father has his mind set on something, he’s not going to listen to anyone telling him otherwise. Certainly not me.”

They decided to visit Hagrid before the execution. Malfoy apologised to him again, but Hagrid just shrugged. “It’s not you I blame,” he said, “it’s your father. I could have handled being demoted back to Groundskeeper, but Buckbeak hardly did a thing.”

Ron was fussing over Scabbers. Hermione sighed. “It’s your fault he ran away,” she said.

“It’s the fault of your damn cat,” Ron argued.

“Crookshanks didn’t do a thing!” Hermione exclaimed. Suddenly a jar exploded behind her. They all turned to stare at it.

“What the…” Harry started before something hit the back of his neck. He turned around and thought he saw a flash of something behind the pumpkins. Trying to get a closer look out of the window, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Dumbledore, the Minister and the executioner, and they were headed right for Hagrid’s shack. “They’re here,” he said.

“They’re early,” Hagrid sighed. “Quick, go out the back door. Don’t let them see you.”

They left the hut just as Dumbledore and the Minister enter it, and they hide behind the giant pumpkins. Hermione took a long look into the trees behind her before they escaped back up the hill. From there they watched the executioner slowly raise his axe and bring it down with an unmistakeable _slice_. Hermione sobbed and buried her face in Ron’s shoulder. Harry took her hand and instinctively grabbed hold of Malfoy’s as well. Malfoy was very clearly holding back tears, but Harry didn’t want to mention it.

“I’m going to bed,” Malfoy said tiredly, looking as though he wanted to be alone. Harry watched him go.

Then Ron cried out as Scabbers bit him.

\---

“Potter!”

Harry turned to see Malfoy racing through the infirmary door, ignoring the glare he received from Madam Pomfrey. “I came as soon as I heard about the Dementor attack. Are you alright?”

“Glad to see you’re concerned for me too,” Ron muttered from his bed.

“You weren’t attacked by Dementors, I think you’ll live,” Malfoy said as he passed Ron’s bed.

“Hey, I’m going to live too,” Harry said.

“Tell me what happened,” Malfoy said, sitting down next to Harry. The trio took turns narrating the events of that evening: the Whomping Willow, the black dog that became Sirius Black, Lupin, Scabbers becoming Peter Pettigrew, Snape, Lupin becoming a werewolf, and finally the dementors. Harry also told them all that someone cast a powerful Patronus charm to save him and Sirius, and he was convinced that that person was his father.

“Potter, your father’s dead,” Malfoy said.

“I know that,” Harry replied, “but I just have this feeling.”

They were interrupted by Dumbledore, who came and briefly spouted some cryptic verses like usual before leaving again. “I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand a thing that man says,” Malfoy muttered.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked very much like she did. Suddenly she pulled out something from around her neck. “That’s it! You two, come here,” she said to Harry and Malfoy. “Sorry Ron, but you can’t walk.”

“What? What are you doing?” Ron called from his bed. He tried to move before wincing.

“What time did we visit Hagrid?” Hermione asked.

“Six thirty, I think?” Harry replied.

Hermione put the chain that was around her neck around Harry’s and Malfoy’s as well, pulling them both uncomfortably close to each other, and before any of the boys could react she spun the charm that was attached to it. The room became a blur of motion: people coming and going, people carrying trays and medical equipment, and everyone appearing to be moving backwards. Eventually the blurriness stopped, and Harry felt rather dizzy.

“What just happened?” Malfoy asked.

Hermione held up the object around her neck. “This is a Time-Turner,” she said, already on the move. “It’s what I’ve been using to take multiple classes this year. I’ve taken us back to just before we visited Hagrid.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Dumbledore said ‘more than one innocent life may be saved’, remember? I think he meant Buckbeak and Sirius. Come on.”

They hurried through the corridors, careful not to be spotted by anyone. They watched from behind some large rocks as their younger selves entered Hagrid’s hut, then clambered down the steep hill themselves, hiding behind the giant pumpkins as they had done before. After a while, they noticed Dumbledore, the Minister and the executioner making their way down the hill.

“We’re not leaving,” Harry said, watching themselves through the window. Hermione picked up a stone and threw it into the hut. It hit the pot that had broken earlier. Malfoy followed suit, throwing a stone at the back of Harry’s head before quickly ducking down. The Harry behind the pumpkins rubbed the back of his own neck. “You didn’t need to do it that hard,” he muttered.

“Shush! They’re coming,” Hermione said, leading them backwards to the trees. They hid behind the trunks as their younger selves left the hut and hid behind the pumpkins. “Is that really what my hair looks like from the back?” Hermione asked, leaning forward. Something snapped and the three of them pressed their backs to the trees as the Hermione behind the pumpkins took a long look into the darkness. Finally, they left and went up the hill.

The older three emerged from the trees and got to work trying to free Buckbeak. Harry lifted his chain off the hook and tried to lead the dozing hippogriff away. However, Buckbeak was refusing to move. Noticing the dead ferrets hanging nearby, Hermione grabbed a couple and tossed them to him. Buckbeak stood up then, snapping them up in one bite. Still, he refused to walk anywhere.

Hermione noticed Malfoy standing a few metres away, looking rather nervous. “Get the other ferrets! Quick!” she hissed at him.

Malfoy shook his head, still staring at Buckbeak. “I can’t…”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “This is your chance to put things right. Just be a Gryffindor for once!”

Malfoy sighed but grabbed the dead ferrets, grimacing. “Here, Buckbeak!” he started to coo. “Come here, boy!”

The ferrets got the hippogriff’s attention and Harry was able to pull him away and into the forest just as the adults emerged from the hut. They stopped as soon as they were out of sight of the hut, and Buckbeak quickly started to eat the ferrets off of a trembling Malfoy.

“See? He’s not that bad,” Harry said.

“I guess not,” Malfoy said reluctantly, even offering Buckbeak a pat on the head. “What now?”

Harry looked up through the trees at the hill. He could just about see movement: Ron chasing after Scabbers. “Now we wait.”

They waited for about an hour before anyone emerged from the Whomping Willow. At the first signs of movement on the hill, Harry shook Malfoy, who had started to doze with his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said.

They watched as the younger Harry approached Sirius and they started talking. “He’s asking me to go and live with him,” the older Harry said. “I’d like that. Somewhere with a family that cares for me.”

Malfoy smiled sadly. “That’s great.”

Harry looked over at him. “You can come along too, if you want. I’m sure Sirius would love you. You’re both… _misunderstood_.”

Malfoy elbowed him playfully. “Shut up. And my father would go searching for me. I’d only put Sirius in more danger.”

Suddenly, they heard shouts from the hill. Lupin was transforming into a werewolf. Harry, Hermione and Draco watched as he howled and approached the students before being attacked by Sirius in dog form. The fight was just as awful as Harry remembered it. Finally, Sirius was thrown down the hill with some force and the werewolf focused again on Snape and their younger selves. He slowly backed them into the trunk of the Whomping Willow.

“Granger, didn’t you say that Lupin was distracted by a howl?” the older Malfoy asked.

Hermione’s eyes widened in understanding, and she cupped her hands around her mouth and howled loudly. The werewolf turned towards them and started down the hill. “Great. It’s headed for us now,” Harry pointed out.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Hermione confessed. “Run!”

They broke into a sprint as Lupin chased them deeper and deeper into the forest. Harry stuck with Hermione, but soon realised that he had lost sight of Malfoy. They quickly hid behind a large tree and Harry hoped that Malfoy was alright. As they inched around the tree trunk, they heard a twig snap a few metres away. Harry’s heart dropped to his stomach as he looked right into the werewolf’s eyes.

Suddenly, there was another howl that caught Lupin’s attention. Harry looked for the source and saw Malfoy emerge from behind another tree. “Over here, Professor!” he cried.

“Draco, no!” Harry cried as the werewolf started towards Malfoy.

Malfoy’s gaze snapped to Harry’s at the sound of his first name, before his focus returned and he whistled. Immediately, Buckbeak swooped down and intercepted the werewolf. As they fought, Malfoy raced over to Harry and Hermione. “You’re okay,” he said.

“We’re okay,” Harry echoed.

Finally, Buckbeak sent Lupin limping off into the forest. “Poor Professor’s going to have a rough morning,” Hermione said.

Harry turned to look across the lake. He could see his younger self stumbling down the banks towards an unconscious Sirius. He could also see the hundreds of Dementors slowly making their way towards the pair.

“I’ve never seen so many Dementors,” Malfoy said, voice trembling.

“Any minute now,” Harry said. “My dad will come.”

The Dementors started sucking the life out of Sirius and the younger Harry, who tried to fight them off. “Harry, no one’s here,” Hermione said.

“He’ll be here,” Harry insisted.

“Merlin’s sake, Potter, your father’s dead!” Malfoy cried out. “It’s blindingly obvious that you’re the one to cast the Patronus, but you refuse to accept it because you’re terrified of failure. You have to let that fear go. Are you a Gryffindor or not?”

Harry steeled himself, ran to the shore of the lake and pointed his wand at his younger self and the dying Sirius. “ _Expecto Patronum_!” he yelled. A blinding white light burst from his wand that obliterated the Dementors, as did the form of a stag. He watched as Sirius lurched and started breathing heavily, and as the light faded, the younger Harry collapsed on the ground. The older Harry was rather exhausted himself. He turned back to Hermione and Malfoy, whose mouths were both agape.

Malfoy spoke first. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I take back what I said earlier. If there is a competition between us, you’re definitely winning.”

Harry chuckled, feeling his cheeks prickle with heat. “I couldn’t have done it without your words of wisdom,” he said, bumping shoulders with him.

“Sirius will be taken back to the castle soon,” Hermione said. “We have to break him out somehow.”

Malfoy was stroking Buckbeak again, who had returned presumably for more ferrets. “I think I know a way we can do that,” he said.

\---

“You really are nothing like your father,” Sirius said to Malfoy. “In fact, you remind me a bit of my brother. He was a Slytherin too.” He smiled sadly.

“Was he a good man?” Malfoy asked.

“In the end,” Sirius replied. He turned to Harry and Hermione. “Thank you, all of you. I will be forever in your debt.”

“When will I see you again?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. Harry, I think I was too hasty in inviting you to live with me. My life will be far too unpredictable, far too dangerous.” He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It pains me to send you back to your aunt and uncle, but you’re safer there.”

Harry nodded. “I understand. Will you write?”

Sirius smiled. “Whenever I can.”

As the three of them watched Sirius fly off on Buckbeak’s back, Hermione gasped. “We have to leave,” she said. “We need to be back at the infirmary.” As if on cue, the great clock in the castle started to chime. “Quick!”

They sprinted into the castle and up the stairs, just making it into the infirmary as they saw their younger selves disappear. Ron was still sat on the bed, gaping at them. “But… but you were just there… and now you’re there… how…” he sputtered.

“Don’t be silly, Ron,” Harry said. “How can someone be in two places at once?”

\---

A few days later, the year was noticeably drawing to a close. Professor Lupin was resigning, teachers were giving out last-minute pieces of summer work, and Malfoy’s mood was getting steadily worse.

Harry found himself up on the hill overlooking Hagrid’s hut with Malfoy. Ron and Hermione were back in the Gryffindor common room, which left them alone for a little while.

“You’re still not looking forward to going back to your family, are you?” Harry said.

Malfoy didn’t answer for a few moments. Eventually he flopped back onto the grass, staring up at the clear sky. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, do you understand?” he asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied.

“Remember that Defence Against the Dark Arts class at the start of the year? The one where Lupin showed us the boggart?”

Harry remembered.

“I was terrified of standing in front of the boggart. I’d rather die than show everyone my greatest fear.” He looked over at Harry. “Can you think what it is?”

Harry really hoped his guess was wrong. “It’s Lucius.”

Malfoy nodded. “I know he loves me. He doesn’t show it often, but he’s my father, so I know he does. But… it’s odd. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I also don’t want to make him proud, because then I’d be just like him.”

Harry thought for a minute. Finally, he said, “Draco.”

Malfoy stared at him in surprise. “What?”

“You’re Draco. Not Malfoy. _Draco_. You’re not your father, so you deserve to be called by your own name, not one that you both share.”

Malfoy – no, Draco – sat up, an unreadable expression on his face. After what felt like hours, he relaxed into a smirk. “So we’re finally on first name terms then?” he drawled.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut up, this is serious.”

Draco smiled fondly at him. “I know. Thank you, _Harry_. That means a lot.” He wrinkled his nose. “No, you’re still more of a Potter.”

Even if it was a one-time event, Harry felt his heart skip at the sound of Draco saying his first name. Or maybe that was just hunger. It was almost dinnertime.


	3. Fourth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> following some... Stuff(TM) that has been happening during the past couple of days, i just wanted to check in with any trans and/or enby readers: i'm so sorry that this is happening. you are all so strong and so valid. in my fanon universe, every single character says lgbtq+ rights (including like umbridge and voldemort bc even they wouldn't stoop to that level). i love you all <3

“Weasley.”

Harry noticed Arthur Weasley stop and look down into the busy stairwell. Lucius Malfoy was smirking up at them. “Lucius. Are you well?” Mr Weasley said civilly.

Ignoring the question, Lucius motioned towards Draco, who was fidgeting uncomfortably beside him. “Draco and I have seats in the Ministry box to watch the match. I suspect your work in Muggle artefacts doesn’t afford you that privilege.”

Draco nodded at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Granger. Weasley. Potter.” He offered them a small, nervous smile in greeting, not wanting to give away their friendship to his father. The trio nodded back.

“Our seats are decent enough. At least we won’t have to crane our necks to see the fireworks,” Mr Weasley replied.

Lucius scowled. “Come along, Draco.” He descended the stairs, his cloak trailing behind him. Draco grimaced apologetically before following him.

Mr Weasley continued up the stairs to their seats. “What we’re not going to do is let the Malfoys ruin our night,” he said.

Harry wished he could invite Draco to watch the Quidditch match with him. No doubt they’d end up analysing the Seekers’ moves and debating whether they could do any better.

\---

“So your wand was used to cast the Dark Mark?” Draco asked in a hushed whisper. No one outside their train compartment could hear them, but it still felt like such a subject ought to be whispered about.

Harry nodded. “I thought I saw someone do it, but it was probably just the panic making me hallucinate things. Were you alright?”

“I was away from the more crowded areas of the campsite, so I managed to avoid most of the chaos. I did lose my father for a while, though.” Draco had an odd look on his face. Like he was trying to mediate an argument in his own head.

Hermione had noticed his expression as well. “What are you thinking?” she asked him.

He frowned up at her. “Well… you know my father fought for You-Know-Who in the Wizarding War, right?”

The trio nodded.

“He only got away with not going to Azkaban because he argued that he had been under the Imperius Curse. But… I wonder…” He shook his head. “No. I just lost him in the crowd.”

Harry and the others glanced at each other, but silently decided not to press the matter further.

\---

“Can you believe that people are mad at me? That they think I cheated?”

Ron glared at him, making Harry’s stomach drop. “Well you did, didn’t you?”

“No! Ron, I don’t want to compete in this tournament! I’ve risked death enough times, thank you very much.” Harry collapsed onto the Gryffindor common room’s old sofa.

“I don’t believe that for a minute. You’re Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived! You’ll do anything to stay relevant,” Ron argued.

“That’s ridiculous. Hermione, isn’t that ridiculous?”

Hermione grimaced. “It does seem a rather odd coincidence, Harry.”

Harry groaned. He turned to Draco, who was standing awkwardly nearest the door, a green anomaly in such a warm-toned room. “Draco. Please. Back me up here.”

Draco sighed. “I can’t say I completely believe you, Potter, but…”

“Great. Thanks for your support, all of you,” Harry interrupted.

“Let me finish,” Draco said firmly. “But… the Goblet was clearly tampered with. I’m inclined to say it was by someone else, because I seriously doubt Potter is good enough at magic to bypass Dumbledore’s charms.”

Harry scoffed. “Thanks, Draco.”

Ron was still scowling. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered before ascending the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.

“He’ll come around,” Hermione assured Harry.

“Or we’ll make him,” added Draco.

Harry stared up at the ceiling. “Just one year,” he said, “one year I’d like to go without almost getting killed. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Hermione said, sitting in the armchair next to him. “It won’t be like the last tournament. They wouldn’t put you in too much danger.”

“And even if they do…” Draco began, but Hermione glared at him.

“Draco!”

“Even if they do, _which is unlikely_ , you have people to help you. You have us. You have Hagrid. You have Moody, although I don’t particularly trust him. And Dumbledore won’t let anything too awful happen to you. You’re his favourite student, after all.” Draco grinned. “You’ll probably come out with a few scrapes, maybe a couple of broken ribs, and a fun story to tell your future children.”

Harry wasn’t completely reassured. A couple of broken ribs still sounded rather painful.

\---

“Unforgivable curses,” Professor Moody announced, scrawling the words on the blackboard behind him. “And they are named such because…?”

Hermione raised her hand nervously. “Because they are unforgivable. Using them will put you in Azkaban.”

“Correct.” Moody removed a spider from a glass jar and grew it to the size of his hand. One by one, he demonstrated the curses to the terrified students.

“ _Imperio_.” The spider flew around the room at Moody’s will, dancing across the students’ desks. It balanced over a pail of water and dangled just inside an open window. “Many wizards have claimed that they were only doing the Dark Lord’s bidding under the influence of the Imperius Curse,” Moody said. He trained his good eye on Draco, who shrank under its piercing gaze. “But how do we weed out the liars?” He let the spider rest on Neville’s desk for no longer than a moment. “ _Crucio_.”

The spider let out a shrill cry. Harry didn’t know spiders could make that noise. The pain it was experiencing must have been unbearable. Hermione had noticed Neville’s horror at the spider’s torture. “Stop it!” she cried. “Can’t you see it’s upsetting him?”

Moody somewhat reluctantly released the spider, which curled up into a ball on the desk. He frowned at Hermione. “Perhaps you’d like to tell us the third curse?” Hermione firmly shook her head. Harry looked over at Draco on his other side. He had his eyes fixed on the floor, and his fists were tightly clenched. “Anyone?” Moody continued. Seeing no volunteers, he shrugged. “ _Avada Kedavra_.” The spider was killed immediately. A sob escaped from Neville. Moody eyed him before turning around. “Class dismissed,” he announced as he headed into his office, lifting a flask to his lips.

“I miss Lupin,” Harry muttered.

\---

“Does Hermione have a date to the Yule Ball yet?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco. “I don’t know. Why, do you want to ask her?”

“Merlin, no!” Draco pulled a face. “But Weasley does.”

“Does he?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, Potter. You really can be obtuse sometimes.”

Harry didn’t believe Draco until he saw it himself: Ron asking Hermione to the ball, and Hermione turning him down. Ron watched Hermione hurry out of the Great Hall, a sad look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” Harry said.

“Tough luck,” Draco said, trying to hide a laugh.

Ron glared at him. “Shut up. It’s not like you have a date either.”

“I’m not asking anyone,” Draco said.

“You’re not going with a date?” Harry asked. “But what about… Pansy Parkinson?”

“She’s going with Blaise. And she also doesn’t like me. None of the Slytherins do, actually, since I spend all my time with Gryffindors.” Draco shrugged. “My friends don’t exactly extend past the three of you.”

Harry suddenly felt rather sorry for Draco. He was isolated within his house, at home, and whenever he wasn’t with him, Ron, and Hermione. The other Gryffindors were welcoming, sure, but Harry had noticed that they didn’t trust Draco very much. “I’m sorry.”

Draco shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m more concerned about finding a date for you, after that disastrous rejection from Cho.”

“Hey! It wasn’t disastrous. Awkward, maybe, but not disastrous.”

“What about me?” Ron whined.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re less of a priority, since Harry actually needs a dance partner as one of the Triwizard Champions. For all I care, we can go together as eligible bachelors.”

Ron scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I don’t want to go dateless like some loser. No offence.”

“I can’t help but find some offence in that,” Draco said.

Just then, the Patil twins walked by, nodding hello to Harry. Which gave Harry an idea.

Harry ended up going to the Yule Ball with Parvati and Ron with Padma. They met their dates outside the Great Hall and started making awkward conversation.

Draco sauntered up to them, wearing an expensive-looking tuxedo. He eyed Harry’s green robes. “Finally declaring our love for Slytherin house, are we?”

“Shut up,” Harry replied. “Hermione helped me choose it. Apparently, it brings out my eyes.”

Draco stared long and hard into Harry’s eyes, and Harry started feeling rather warm. Finally, he leaned back. “She was right.”

Harry heard Parvati scoff behind him, and turned to her apologetically. “It’s almost time for our entrance,” he said. “I’ll see you inside?” he said to the others. But they weren’t looking at him.

Harry turned around to see Hermione laughing with… Krum? Was Krum her secret date to the ball?

“Well, if you had to lose her to someone, he’s a decent person to lose to,” Draco said to Ron, who elbowed him.

\---

Harry and Ron found themselves sitting miserably at a table, watching the dancing. Padma and Parvati had been whisked away by two Durmstrang boys, and neither of them wanted to ruin their night any further by refusing to let them go. Harry watched Cedric spin Cho, both smiling easily. Ron was glaring daggers into the back of Krum’s head.

Draco flopped down next to them. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourselves,” he observed. He pulled out a flask from inside his jacket. “Firewhiskey?”

Harry accepted it with wide eyes. “How did you get hold of this?”

“I have my ways,” Draco replied. The firewhiskey burned Harry’s throat as he sipped it before passing it to Ron, who attempted to chug it. Draco chucked as Ron started coughing at the firewhiskey’s strength. Suddenly, he stood up and held out a hand to Harry. “Do you want to dance? To make up for that sorry excuse for a dance you attempted at the start of the ball.”

Surprised, Harry glanced at Ron. “Go,” Ron said miserably.

Perhaps emboldened by the firewhiskey, Harry took Draco’s hand and Draco led him to the dance floor. “Let him sulk,” he said. “He’ll get over it eventually.”

Draco guided Harry’s free hand to his shoulder and put his on Harry’s waist. Harry was content with letting Draco lead, since they were both well aware of his lack of grace. Some people began to stare and whisper, and Blaise and a couple of other Slytherins started to wolf whistle before they were given a stern look from McGonagall, but the boys ignored them. Draco gave Harry a genuine smile and Harry found himself enjoying this dance much more than his dance with Parvati.

\---

Harry threw the newest print of the Daily Prophet on the table. “Golden Boy and Malfoy Heir: Forbidden Romance of the Decade,” he exclaimed, quoting the paper’s headline. Several people had copies of the paper and were definitely laughing at him.

A hungover Ron sat up from where he was resting his head on the table and blearily looked at the picture. In it, Draco and Harry were in a firm waltz hold, staring at each other with what could have been called fondness. “It is a sweet picture. You can’t blame Skeeter for getting the wrong idea.”

Hermione picked up the paper and started to read aloud. “ _Amongst the glamour of the Yule Ball last night, what caught the attendees’ attention was not Fleur Delacour’s spectacular dress or the Champions’ opening dance, but in fact the moment Hogwarts Champion Harry Potter took Draco Malfoy, son of former Death-Eater Lucius Malfoy, to the dancefloor. The couple had eyes only for each other as they danced, and eyewitnesses said that both individuals disappeared from the ball soon afterwards. A match between the Boy Who Lived and the Malfoy heir is unexpected to say the least, and one must ask whether Potter is actually acting under the same curse his beau’s father claimed to have suffered all those years ago_.” She scoffed. “That last part was completely unnecessary.”

Draco sat down next to Harry, also nursing a slight hangover. “So you’ve heard the news,” he said miserably.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked.

Draco grimaced. “Blaise and the others are loving it. Just another excuse to tease me whenever I’m in the common room. And I got an owl from my father earlier asking me whether the article was true. I said no, obviously, but the next time I go home will definitely be interesting.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, reaching across the table to pat Draco’s arm.

Harry was rereading the last sentence of the article. “Is it really that unbelievable?” he asked. “That you and I could be an item?”

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, we’re rather different, aren’t we? Gryffindor and Slytherin. Son of Aurors and son of former Death-Eaters. Good at Potions,” he pointed at himself, “and incapable of brewing even the simplest potion without help,” he pointed at Harry.

“Hey!”

“It’s ridiculous that Skeeter could write a story from a single picture and everyone seems to believe it,” Ron said, looking around the Great Hall at the students with papers.

“I wonder how long it’s going to take for this to die down,” Harry said.

He lamented such to Moody as he found himself walking through the courtyard with him later that day. “It seems unfair that she’s targeting me more than the others,” Harry said.

Moody grunted.

“And Draco…”

“Malfoy? Of course he’s got something to do with it,” Moody interrupted. “I’ll sort him out.”

“But Professor…”

But Moody had already spotted Draco across the courtyard, facing a group of Slytherins who were holding the paper and laughing. “Malfoy!” Moody yelled. “Get over here. You’re a lying brat, just like your father!” And before Draco could react, Moody pointed his wand at him and transfigured him into a white ferret, slamming him against the ground and compelling him to and climb up Goyle’s trousers.

“Professor Moody!” Harry cried in horror. “Stop! Draco’s my friend!”

“Alastor!” McGonagall shouted, rushing over towards the commotion. “We never, _ever_ use transfiguration as a method of punishment at Hogwarts. Release him at once!”

Reluctantly, Moody transfigured him back and stormed off, muttering that “he had it coming to him”. Draco scrambled to his feet, terrified, and ran off in the opposite direction.

Harry hurried after him. “Draco!” he called.

Draco came to a stop in an empty corridor and leaned against the wall, panting. Harry approached him slowly. “Draco, are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” Draco whimpered. Harry held out a tentative hand and Draco grabbed onto it, pulling Harry into a tight hug. “I hated it. The fear, the powerlessness…”

“I understand,” Harry said. Draco buried his face into Harry’s shoulder, breathing heavily. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Moody. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either.”

“How about we blame Rita Skeeter? And Moody of course.”

Draco half laughed, half sobbed.

“You know, I think this is our first hug,” Harry said.

Draco pulled back to stare at Harry. “We’ve been friends for two and a half years, and we haven’t hugged until now?”

“Unless you count our dance at the Yule Ball, which I don’t.”

Draco shrugged. “I guess I’m not a very tactile person, so I hadn’t noticed. It’s nice, though.”

“Mm-hmm.”

\---

Hermione dropped a pile of books onto the table the group had occupied. “So if the second task involves being underwater, we have to find a way for you to breathe underwater.”

“This is where being older would have helped,” Draco said. “We’d know more advanced charms. More specific potions.”

“I’m sure Cedric had no trouble with this,” Harry lamented.

“Well, he has had a head start,” Ron said. “The task is tomorrow and we’re not even close to finding anything.”

Hermione handed them each a book. “Here, have a search through. There’s bound to be something in one of these.”

They read for what seemed like hours, and progress slowed significantly when Ron and Hermione were stolen away by McGonagall. Eventually, Harry groaned and banged his head lightly on the table. “I give up. Just let me drown, I don’t care anymore.”

“Stop being overdramatic,” Draco said.

Just then, Neville approached them. “Hi guys,” he greeted.

“Not now, Longbottom,” Draco drawled, exhausted. “We’re very busy, so unless you know a way to breathe underwater…”

“Breathe underwater?” Neville’s face lit up. “Do you know about gillyweed?” Both Harry and Draco turned to him in surprise. “Obviously not,” Neville said. “I’m pretty sure there’s some in Snape’s office.”

“Great. You can help us steal it,” Draco said.

“Steal it? No. I’m not stealing anything.”

“Please, Neville? I need it for the second task. You could help me win the tournament. Bring glory to Hogwarts and all that.”

Neville looked between them hesitantly before nodding. “Fine. I’ll help you.”

The three of them hurried to Gryffindor Tower where Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak. Then they walked as innocently as they could towards the Potions classroom and Snape’s office. “I’ll distract him,” Draco whispered once they were outside. “He tolerates me more than you two put together. You go in and get the gillyweed.”

Harry and Neville wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around themselves before Draco knocked on the door to Snape’s office. Snape opened it after a moment and frowned down at Draco. “Malfoy. What do you want?”

“I was hoping you could give me some advice on the Potions homework you set yesterday, sir,” Draco said, taking a step backwards. Snape followed him out, leaving a gap for Harry and Neville to sneak past. “I’ve completely forgotten the best way to extract juice from knotgrass. I know that one way is to chop it up…”

“Have you been hanging around those idiots Potter and Weasley for too long?” Snape sneered. From beneath the Cloak, Harry opened his mouth to say something, and was only stopped by Neville. As Snape explained the method to Draco, the pair searched the walls of his office for the gillyweed. Finally, Neville spotted it on the top shelf.

“ _Accio_ gillyweed!” Harry quietly said, catching the bottle as it flew towards him. They turned to leave just as Snape started to return into the office.

“Wait!” Draco cried, causing Snape to turn back around and frown at him. “But if the best method is distillation, why don’t we do that for fluxweed as well?”

“Because, Malfoy, fluxweed contains more water. One can obtain the same amount of juice in a faster time by simply wringing it out. Unless, of course, you wish to further complicate things?”

“No, sir,” Draco said. Harry and Neville snuck past Snape and out of the office and Harry lightly tapped Draco on the shoulder to let him know they were done. “That’s all I wanted to ask,” Draco added, already turning to leave. “Thank you, sir.” They left Snape in the corridor, still scowling.

“Do you have it?” Draco asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Yes,” Harry replied. “Now I just have to hope it works.”

“It’ll work,” Neville reassured him. “I think.”

\---

“Why aren’t they here?” Harry whined. “I could die during this trial and they’re not here!”

“Are we not good enough for you?” Draco joked as they walked down to the lake with Neville in tow. “Besides, they might have finally got their act together and are snogging in some hidden corner as we speak.”

Harry pulled a face. “I don’t know what you’re on about. Ron and Hermione don’t like each other like that.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine. Remain blissfully ignorant of our friends’ love lives.”

They rode a boat across the lake, and all the while Harry’s nerves were going out of control. After a couple of minutes, Draco rested a hand on his leg. “Stop. Your nervous energy is starting to affect me. And look at Longbottom, he’s sweating.”

Harry frowned at him but gratefully placed his hand over Draco’s. “I can’t help it. I might drown.”

“You’re not going to drown.”

“But I _might_.”

“Please stop saying that,” Neville whimpered. “It’ll be my fault if you do.”

“Sorry, Neville,” Harry said.

When they arrived at the large structures that had been built in the middle of the lake, Moody greeted Harry. Draco visibly shrank back at the sight of him, and Harry discreetly took hold of Draco’s wrist in an attempt to reassure him.

As the rules for the trial were being read out, Harry leaned over towards Draco. “They’re still not here. If I die and come back as a ghost, they’re getting seriously haunted.”

“It’s what they deserve,” Draco deadpanned. “Take your gillyweed.”

\---

After the trial, Draco was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Harry didn’t see him at all for a couple of days. Finally, he caught a flash of blond hair moving in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. When he arrived, Draco was already floating on his broom.

“Draco!”

Draco frowned down at him. “Potter.”

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“No,” Draco said rather unconvincingly.

“I’m coming up.” Harry mounted his broom and flew up to Draco’s height. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

Draco was avoiding Harry’s gaze. “It’s ridiculous.”

“If you’re this worked up about it, it’s probably not.”

Draco didn’t say anything more until Harry floated towards him and gently bumped Draco’s broom with his. “Why did they choose Weasley for you to rescue over me?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you’ve been worrying about?”

“See, it is ridiculous.”

“Ron’s my oldest friend. We’re almost family. Of course he’s valuable to me.”

“But he’s been a git to you this year,” Draco argued. “He turned his back on you when your first got chosen for the tournament, he did nothing but sulk all the way through the Yule Ball.”

Harry blinked. “Are you _jealous_?”

“No! I don’t get jealous,” Draco scoffed.

“Of course you don’t,” Harry said sarcastically. “Draco, I don’t know who chose the people we had to save. Merlin, Krum had Hermione and he’s known her for what? Two, three months?” He knocked his foot against Draco’s. “Just because Ron was chosen doesn’t mean you’re any less important to me. Okay?”

Draco offered him a small smile. “Okay.”

\---

With a flash of light, Harry fell onto the grass of the arena, still clutching Cedric’s body. He could hear the band still playing a tune so cheerful it was jarring.

People were cheering for him, like he’d just done something wonderful instead of witnessed a murder and almost died himself.

Fleur screamed and the music came to a stop.

Harry found himself being pulled away from Cedric’s body, and saw Amos Diggory replace him at Cedric’s side, heaving loud sobs. He felt something wet on his cheek and realised he had been crying as well. Everything seemed blurry and muffled, like he was underwater at the lake again.

Draco’s face appeared in front of him, his features arranged into a picture of worry. He was mouthing something, but Harry couldn’t focus. All he could see was Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, who had sworn his allegiance to Voldemort. He jerked away from Draco and into Hermione’s arms.

What he wouldn’t have given to be able to go back to a few hours ago.

\---

“You’ve been avoiding me, Potter.”

Harry turned to see Draco sit down on the grass next to him.

“Don’t say you haven’t, because that doesn’t work with me,” Draco continued. “It’s my turn to play counsellor.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but…” Harry didn’t know what to say. He was terrified of how Draco would react if he told him about Lucius.

Draco sighed. “Merlin’s sake, Potter, just spit it out. I know you’ve got something on your mind, and that that something concerns me.”

Harry swallowed. “The other day… when I came back from the final task with Cedric…” His voice cracked, and he took a breath. Draco continued to watch him silently, patiently. “I’ve only told Dumbledore about what happened. Him and Moody, who turned out to be Barty Crouch Jr., who’s dead now, so…”

“As curious as I am, you don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to,” Draco said.

“I do have to,” Harry said. “And I want to. Well… the Triwizard Cup was a portkey, but instead of bringing us straight back to the arena, it brought me and Cedric to this graveyard. Peter Pettigrew came out and… you know…”

Draco shifted his hand ever so slightly so that it was touching Harry’s. Harry interlocked their pinkies.

“And then Pettigrew brought Voldemort back, and we duelled. And I managed to escape and take Cedric’s body back.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco said quietly. “That must have been difficult.”

“That’s… not all.” Harry steeled himself. “Before we duelled, Voldemort summoned the Death-Eaters to watch him torture me. And among them… was Lucius.”

Draco’s breath hitched, but his expression didn’t change. “Oh,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Harry echoed. “I wasn’t sure whether to tell you. I’ll tell Ron and Hermione later – about all the other stuff, not that if you don’t want me to – but you deserved to know first.”

“You did the right thing,” Draco said, his voice totally emotionless. “I had my own suspicions. I just really, _really_ didn’t want to be right.”

“So you believe me?”

“I believe you.”

“Are you going to be okay? Going back for the summer?”

“I’ll be alright.” Draco looked out into the distance.

“I still have my winnings from the Tournament. We could buy a flat, get away from our families.”

Draco huffed a syllable of a laugh. “We both know how dangerous that’d be. Even more so now. I don’t want my… my father getting to you through me.” He smiled sadly. “Besides, I think you have another idea of what you’d like to do with the money.”

Harry nodded. “I don’t think I want to keep it after what I went through to get it. There are two people I know who’d make much better use of it.”

Draco nudged Harry’s leg with his foot. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too.”


	4. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late update i guess?? sorry i've been worrying about the fact that the eighth year chapter is currently 10k long by itself and i'm not done yet ahkdflajf i'm in spain without the s   
> chapter length continuity? don't know her   
> anyways enjoy :)

Harry didn’t see Draco until a couple of hours into the train ride. He spotted movement outside his compartment and the door slid open to reveal a head of blond hair. “Potter.”

Harry grinned at him. “Hello, Draco.”

Draco slid into the compartment, shutting the door behind him, and sat down opposite Harry. “Merlin, this Prefect business is already exhausting.”

Harry noticed the shiny new badge on his robes. “You’re a Prefect too?”

Draco nodded. “I must say I was expecting to see you among us, but Weasley’s doing a surprisingly good job. Granger’s taking it all far too seriously, of course.” He nodded at the otherwise empty compartment. “Making new friends, I see.”

“No one else really wants to talk to me, after what happened at the Triwizard Tournament.” Harry grimaced. “Seamus wouldn’t even look at me earlier, and of course Dean stayed with him further up the train. Neville too, but at least he seemed sympathetic.”

“So you’re hated by your own house? Welcome to the club.”

“Was your summer okay?”

It was Draco’s turn to pull a face. “Not really. Father did lay off me after he found out I’m a Prefect. He was one himself. I found out about your trial through him, though. That whole matter seems rather shady if you ask me.”

“I’m just glad they let me back into Hogwarts,” Harry said. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d really been expelled.”

Just then, the door slid open and Hermione stuck her head in. “Draco, you have a job to do. There are some second-years at the back of the train who won’t listen to me. Stop making eyes at Harry and go and scare them or something.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Duty calls,” he said to Harry apologetically. “I’ll see you later.”

\---

“Harry, what’s on your hand?”

Harry showed his right hand to Hermione. “Nothing.”

She frowned and grabbed his left hand. “ _I must not tell lies_ ,” she read, eyes wide in horror. “Harry, you’ve got to go and see Dumbledore. This is torture!”

Draco reached for Harry’s hand and lightly drew his thumb across the words. Harry winced. “Sorry,” Draco whispered. “Granger’s right. Wait until my father hears of this, he’ll get the entire Ministry…” he came to a stop, realising what he had said. “Never mind.”

“Look, Dumbledore has enough on his mind right now without me complaining to him,” Harry said.

“Harry’s right, you know,” Ron said. “What would Dumbledore do? Umbridge is a Ministry Official. The Minister is far more likely to side with her than with Dumbledore. We’d be wasting his time.” He looked at Harry sadly. “We’re on our own.”

Hermione stood up. “No. I won’t accept that. Umbridge won’t teach us how to defend ourselves? We teach ourselves. In secret.”

Ron blinked. “In secret?” He nudged Draco. “I think you’re becoming too much of a bad influence on her.”

“Bad influence?” Draco replied. “If anything, this is an improvement. I like this Granger.”

“But how are you expecting us to teach ourselves if we don’t have a teacher?” Harry asked. Hermione looked at him pointedly. After a moment, Harry understood and shook his head firmly. “No. No!”

“You’re probably the most powerful wizard in the entire student population,” Hermione argued.

“You cast a fully formed Patronus charm when you were thirteen,” Draco added. “We saw it ourselves.”

“And you’ve duelled You-Know-Who,” Ron said. “You’d make a great teacher.”

Harry looked at the three of them, who were staring at him expectantly. “Fine,” he said eventually. “Try and spread the word as discreetly as possible, and only to people you know we can trust.”

And that was how Harry found himself in the Room of Requirement – which Neville had accidentally found – teaching twenty or so students how to duel. He improved their casting of basic defence spells, oversaw practice duels and, with the help of Hermione, enchanted dummies to use more powerful spells against. All the while, they continued hiding from Filch and Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad which was mostly made up of Slytherins.

“The Inquisitorial Squad is getting desperate,” Draco told Harry one day, before the last meeting of what was now referred to as Dumbledore’s Army. Ginny was to thank for that name. “I keep catching them trying to slip Veritaserum into my drink,” Draco continued.

“Are you going to be alright?” Harry asked.

“I’ll be fine, Veritaserum only works properly when you don’t realise you’ve been given it,” Draco said.

After a couple of hours of friendly duels, Harry let them go. On his way out, Ron nudged Harry and motioned back into the room, where Cho was still standing by herself. Before approaching Cho, Harry cast a last look back at his friends, and saw Draco giving him an odd look as he left.

\---

“The trick of casting a Patronus charm is to think of a memory. The happiest memory you have.” Harry walked around the students. “Picture that memory. Let it fill you up, and when you’re ready, you know what to do.” He watched as, one by one, the students started waving their wands, and a chorus of “ _Expecto Patronum_ ” filled the room. Cool white light started shining from several students’ wands.

Hermione was the first to cast a fully formed Patronus. An otter sprang from her wand and swam around the room. Some students cheered at Hermione’s success. Luna quickly followed, Ron and Ginny. Harry congratulated all of them and instructed the other students not to give up.

He spotted Draco at the side of the room, smiling at his classmates but not raising his wand. Harry approached him. “Are you not going to try?” he asked.

“You know the stories,” Draco replied. “When an unworthy wizard attempts a Patronus charm, things don’t go too well for them.”

“And what makes you think you’re unworthy?” Harry asked.

Draco raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that my family are Death-Eaters? Or that I’m a Slytherin? Or that a lot of people in this room still don’t like me.”

“Those are all things that are completely out of your control,” Harry replied. “You’re nothing like your family. And being in Slytherin doesn’t automatically make you a bad person. And I’m pretty sure that most of these people actually would like you if you talked to them. Besides, I think the fact that you’re even worrying about being unworthy proves that you’re not.” He placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Just… have a go? For me?”

Draco sighed. “Fine. But if I end up getting eaten by maggots…”

“You won’t.”

Draco raised his wand.

“Do you have your memory?”

Draco glanced at him. Harry thought he could see the slightest blush on his pale cheeks. “Yes.”

“Let it fill your mind. Breathe it in. And then… _Expecto Patronum_.”

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” Draco echoed. A small stream of light flowed from his wand and he gasped. “I did it!” he exclaimed.

“You did,” Harry said. “And now that you actually believe you can do it, it’ll be more powerful. And I’d recommend adjusting your wand movement slightly.” He moved closer to Draco and put his hand over Draco’s on his wand, guiding it in a circular motion. Suddenly the light coming out of Draco’s wand grew brighter. Something else burst out and Harry squinted to see what it was. He couldn’t quite believe it. Draco’s Patronus was…

“A ferret,” Draco said, unimpressed. “My Patronus is a ferret. Why is it always ferrets?”

Harry laughed. “But you did it! That’s a fully formed Patronus charm. I knew you could do it.”

“But it’s a ferret.”

The white ferret scampered through the air and attracted Ron’s attention. “Is that…?”

“Yes.” Draco replied.

“Wicked.”

Before they could celebrate any further, there came a great bang from the far wall of the Room of Requirement.

\---

“Remind me why we’re trying to get into Umbridge’s office at three in the morning?” Ron whispered as he followed Harry and Hermione down the corridor, still half-asleep.

“Because she has all the Floo points monitored except for the fireplace in her office,” Hermione replied, “and we need to alert the Order as soon as possible.”

“Sirius’ life could be in danger,” Harry added miserably.

When they reached Umbridge’s office, Hermione aimed her wand at the door. “ _Alohomora_ ,” she whispered.

Ron pushed the door. “It’s still locked,” he said.

“Thanks for stating the obvious, Ronald.”

“What do we do now, break it down?” Harry said.

“Not if you don’t want the entire school to know what you’re doing,” said a voice behind them. They jumped and turned around, only to relax at the sight of Draco strolling towards them.

“How did you know we were here?” Ron asked.

“I was taking a stroll and I heard you,” Draco replied. “The Slytherins have been unbearable since they broke up the D.A. and I couldn’t sleep.”

“Have you got any better ideas?” Harry asked, gesturing to the locked door.

“Easy. We pick the lock.” Draco crouched down in front of the lock and threaded a wire into the keyhole. He wiggled it around for about ten seconds before sticking his wand in the keyhole. There was a clicking sound and Draco swung the door open. “Ta da.”

“How did you learn to do that?” Ron asked.

Draco shrugged. “I have my ways.”

Hermione was already inside the office. “There has to be some Floo powder in here somewhere.” She started rummaging around in Umbridge’s desk. The others followed her lead, searching through her bookshelves and looking behind the hundreds of cat plates on the walls.

“What are you four doing?” a familiar voice exclaimed from the door. They all turned towards Professor Umbridge, who was standing at the door with a displeased expression.

“Would you believe me if I said we were looking for the answers to the O.W.L.s?” Draco asked.

Umbridge quickly summoned Snape and asked for a bottle of Veritaserum to interrogate the students with. “Unfortunately, I have run out of Veritaserum,” Snape replied. “It would take me at least two days to brew another batch.”

Umbridge was not pleased. “You may go then, I suppose,” she said.

Snape turned to leave, but Harry cried out. “Padfoot!” he exclaimed. “Padfoot is in danger.”

Snape gave Harry a long look, frowning. Harry hoped he’d understood.

“What? What is ‘Padfoot’, Severus?” Umbridge asked.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Snape replied before leaving the office.

“Now then,” Umbridge said, closing the door. “I suppose there is only one other way to get the truth out of you, Mr Potter. The Cruciatus curse will do the trick.”

“No!” Draco cried. “I’ll tell my father. He’s very high up in the Ministry, he’d put you out of a job. Or worse, in Azkaban.”

“Lucius? He is a coward,” Umbridge said. “And what the Minister doesn’t know won’t kill him.” She pointed her wand at Harry.

“Tell her, Harry!” Hermione shouted. Harry looked at her in confusion. “Tell her the truth.”

Harry said nothing.

“Well, if you don’t then I will,” Hermione said.

“Tell me what?” Umbridge asked, pointing her wand at Hermione.

“About Dumbledore’s secret weapon. It’s here, in the Forbidden Forest.”

\---

The four of them raced back to the castle. “I don’t know if Snape understood,” Harry said. “We have to get to the Ministry just in case.”

“What is Padfoot, anyway?” Draco asked.

“Sirius,” Harry replied, realising that Draco had had no idea why they had broken into Umbridge’s office in the first place. “I saw him being tortured by Voldemort in the Ministry.”

“How are we going to get there? There wasn’t any Floo powder in Umbridge’s office,” Hermione said.

“I have another way. But first we have to get Luna. She knows how to find them.”

“Find what?”

And so they ended up riding Thestrals all the way to London along with Luna, Neville, and Ginny, who refused to be left behind despite Ron’s protests. It was quite a struggle, considering the only people who could see the Thestrals were Harry and Luna. Once at the Ministry, Harry led them to the Department of Mysteries, which he remembered from his vision.

“What now?” Neville asked.

“Something’s calling to me,” Harry whispered, walking down the aisle. The others followed close behind, checking between every column of shelves for signs of movement. “Here,” Harry said, reaching for an orb that was slightly glowing in the darkness of the room.

“What is it?” Draco asked. The others gathered round them.

Suddenly, a voice came from the orb. “ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_ ”

Harry met Draco’s wide eyes. “This is about me, isn’t it?”

“There you are. We were wondering when you would come to us.”

Harry turned around to see Lucius walking up the aisle towards him, leading several other Death-Eaters. He turned back to Draco to see that he had disappeared. “Where’s Sirius?” he asked.

“We don’t know where he is. That vision you had? Fake. A ruse placed in your head by the Dark Lord himself to draw you here and retrieve that for us.” He pointed to the orb in Harry’s hand. “Give it to me.”

“Never.”

Lucius sighed. “A shame. I thought you would be smarter, Potter.” Suddenly, the Death-Eaters flew up in clouds of smoke and reappeared behind Harry’s friends, holding them with their wands to their heads. “Let us try this again. Give me the prophecy.”

Harry looked at his struggling friends. “Don’t do it!” Ginny cried before a hand clamped over her mouth. Harry sighed and held out the orb.

“ _Flipendo_!” A blast caused the orb to fly out of Harry’s hand and shatter on the ground. Harry watched in shock as Draco sprinted past the shelves and stopped between him and Lucius. The room was suddenly completely silent, save for Draco’s heavy breathing.

Lucius’ jaw dropped. “Draco?”

“Don’t hurt them. Any of them. Please.”

Something flashed across Lucius’ face – perhaps a glimpse of sadness – but it was quickly gone. “Alright, son, let us make a deal. I will set your classmates free, unscathed, if you join us. The Dark Lord is on his way, and I would hate to see you killed.”

Draco swallowed. He glanced back at Harry.

“Don’t. It’s a trap.” Harry whispered.

“I have to,” Draco replied, tears threatening to escape his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Draco, no. Please.”

But Draco was already stepping backwards, towards Lucius. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Harry watched him go in disbelief.

Lucius pulled Draco into a hug. “That’s it. I’m glad you had the sense to make the right decision. But I can’t just let you escape.” He aimed his wand at Draco before anyone could react. “ _Incarcerous_.” Draco fell to the floor, bound by thick ropes. “Now, where were we?”

All of a sudden, several other figures apparated into the room and struck down the Death-Eaters who were holding Harry’s friends. With a sigh of relief, Harry immediately recognised them as the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius turned to him. “Run,” he said. So they did.

\---

Harry was being pulled away from the flashing cameras by Dumbledore. He went willingly, moving as if his legs were separated from the rest of his body. He had just lost Sirius, the closest thing he had to a father. And he had basically lost Draco, one of his closest friends. He didn’t even want to think about being possessed by Voldemort. When he was alone with Dumbledore, he was handed a mug of something warm. He sipped it absentmindedly. “I’m going to have to kill him myself,” he said eventually, voice hoarse. “Or he’ll kill me.”

“Neither can live while the other survives,” Dumbledore said, repeating the prophecy that Harry had found. “You are correct. Eventually there will come a time where one of you will have to kill the other. And Voldemort most likely knows this as well now, since he would have dragged it out of Draco Malfoy.”

Harry winced at the thought of Voldemort torturing Draco for the prophecy.

“Fortunately, the Ministry will have to accept Voldemort’s return, and so we shall not be completely defenceless.”

Harry didn’t think that was much of an improvement. With Voldemort getting more powerful every day, how long would it be until Harry was forced to fight him to the death?

He felt far from ready.


	5. Sixth Year

“But why isn’t he sitting with us?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione after they’d returned from their Prefect duties.

Ron shrugged. “I don’t know. But he didn’t even speak to us earlier. He’s all friendly with the Slytherins again.”

“And he ignored us in Diagon Alley,” Harry mused. “Do you think this is all to do with what he was doing in Borgin and Burkes?”

Hermione was looking at him with pity. “You know what this means, don’t you, Harry? That he’s actually defected. He’s on Voldemort’s side now.”

Harry frowned at her. “No! No, he’d never do that!”

“Do you think his father would give him a choice? Do you think Voldemort would?”

Neville grimaced. “Hermione’s right. Even if he didn’t want to, he would have been forced to.”

But Harry shook his head. “I’m going to investigate.” He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and made his way to the back of the train where the Slytherins were sitting. He watched as Draco spent most of the train ride scowling out of the window. He thought back to last year, when he helped Draco cast his Patronus. All that light was gone from Draco’s eyes now.

When the train finally came to a stop, the Slytherins started to get up. “Are you coming, Malfoy?” Blaise asked.

“In a minute, I just need to check something,” Draco replied. When the carriage was empty, Draco stood up and looked straight at Harry. Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Suddenly, Draco pointed his wand at him. “ _Petrificus Totalus_!” Harry fell to the floor. Draco felt for the Invisibility Cloak and lifted it off Harry’s paralysed body. “Didn’t anyone tell you it was rude to spy on people, Potter?” he sneered. Before Harry knew it, Draco lifted his foot and dropped it, hard, on Harry’s face. “Enjoy your ride back to London,” he said, dropping the Cloak back on top of him and stalking out of the train.

\---

“Hello, Harry.”

Harry blinked up at Luna, who was leaning over him with a smile. “Luna. I thought everyone was gone. How did you find me?”

“The nargles. They’re all around you.” She helped him up and frowned at his bloody nose. “Would you like some help with that?”

“Have you ever fixed a nose before?”

“I’ve fixed toes, and I don’t expect that noses are any different.” She pointed her wand at him. “Episkey.”

There was a snap and Harry could breathe properly again. “Thanks.”

They walked to the castle together, just in time to see Draco wrestle with an Auror over his cane. Harry stifled a laugh, but his smile dropped as Draco glanced back and glared at Harry.

“Maybe he’s got nargles around his head too,” Luna said.

\---

Ginny and Dean were very obviously making out in the Three Broomsticks.

Harry found himself glaring at them from the other side of the inn. Not that they noticed; they only had eyes for each other.

“It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” Hermione said.

“Yeah.” But Harry realised Hermione wasn’t talking about Ginny and Dean. She was glaring daggers at Ron and Lavender in another corner of the inn. “Oh, yeah. That too,” Harry said half-heartedly. Harry didn’t know why he cared so much about Ginny’s love life. Well, he did know, but he didn’t want to accept it. First Draco had broken his nose, and now he’d lost Ginny to a tall, athletic artist.

“I was under the impression that we’d be going to Slughorn’s Christmas party together, but since that’s obviously not going to happen, I’ve had to make other arrangements,” Hermione said.

Harry stared at her. “Please don’t tell me you’re going with _him_.”

“I had no other choice,” Hermione said, shuddering. “Now we just need to find you a date.”

“Don’t worry, I know just who to ask.”

And so, Harry took Luna to the party, and he was having fun until Snape dragged in a protesting Draco. “Professor, I found Malfoy loitering outside. He said he’d been invited to your party. I’d be quite happy to deal with him myself.”

“Oh, yes, of course, Professor Snape,” Slughorn replied. “No need to make a scene though, eh?”

Harry excused himself from the conversation he was having with Luna and followed Snape and Draco into the corridor, drawing the Invisibility Cloak around him. From there, he heard a whispered argument.

“I am sworn to protect you,” Snape was hissing. “I have made an Unbreakable Vow. The Dark Lord chose you for this task, and you had better not disappoint. For your own sake, and that of your mother’s, if not for mine.”

\---

Acting on nothing but adrenaline from the victory, Harry kissed Ginny as soon as they landed their broomsticks. It was a nice kiss. Not awkward and nervous, like his first kiss with Cho, but not exhilarating either. Just nice. It was nice to be wanted by someone.

\---

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Harry said. “The necklace, and then the mead? Someone’s trying to kill someone else, but who? Who in Hogwarts would want to murder someone?”

“Maybe you could ask,” Hermione replied, her gaze drifting to someone walking past. It was Katie Bell. Harry stumbled out of his seat and chased after her. “Katie!” She turned around and frowned at Harry. “How are you?”

“Better, thanks.” Katie sighed. “I know what you’re going to ask me, Harry, but I can’t give you an answer. I really don’t remember anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I…” her expression suddenly changed to one of realisation as she looked past Harry and down the Hall. Harry turned around to look in that direction and saw blond hair. Draco was staring back at them, looking like he’d seen a ghost. Then, he walked quickly in the opposite direction, out of the Hall and up the stairs.

Harry had to run to keep up with him as he hurried down the corridors, finally going into a bathroom. Harry cautiously followed him in, keeping out of sight for the moment. He watched as Draco leaned against a sink. He turned it on and splashed water on his face, then turned it off. And then he started sobbing. Harry watched in horror for a moment, before coming into full view. “Draco.”

Draco saw his reflection in the mirror first. He whirled round to glare at him. “What do you want, Potter?” he spat, some of the malice in the question removed by his tearfulness.

“You’ve almost killed two people.”

“Prove it,” Draco scoffed, but the expression on his face gave him away.

“You were the one who gave Katie Bell the cursed necklace. You were the one who poisoned Slughorn’s mead. I had to save Ron’s life!”

Draco blinked. “I didn’t realise. I didn’t mean to…”

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asked. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the Draco I know. Did the last four years just not happen?”

“I have to do this,” Draco said, tears threatening to escape down his cheeks. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill my parents.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Harry pleaded, taking a tentative step forward while trying not to spook Draco. “Let me help you out.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

Draco scoffed again. “No, you can’t just… save everyone, Potter. You think you’re so powerful, the saviour of Wizardkind, but this is all bigger than you.”

“Draco, please.”

“Stop it! We’re not friends!” Draco cried. He rolled up his sleeve and Harry gasped as he saw the Dark Mark, stark against Draco’s pale skin. “We can’t be! We’re caught on opposite sides of a war. It would be easier for both of us if you stopped trying to help me.”

“For Merlin’s sake, stop being such a stubborn git and let me try, Malfoy!” Harry yelled. Draco’s eyes widened in shock and hurt, and Harry realised what he’d just said. “No, Draco, I didn’t…” he tried to say, but Draco suddenly aimed his wand at Harry and sent a blast of air that took out a toilet cubicle next to him, sending water shooting into the air. Harry dodged behind another row of cubicles as Draco shot sparks from his wand. Harry sent back blasts of his own. He thought back to their duel in second year, overseen by Lockhart and Snape. He hadn’t wanted to fight in that one, either.

They were on opposite sides of a cubicle, shooting hexes under the stalls as they moved. When they reached the end, Harry shot a powerful blast which Draco narrowly dodged. It hit a sink which sent more water to the now flooded bathroom floor. Draco’s eyes were wide with fear. He waved his wand. “ _Cruci_ -”

Panicked, Harry used the first spell that came into his head. “ _Sectumsempra_!”

Draco flew backwards, behind a stall. Harry cautiously approached him, but his heart dropped to his stomach as he heard Draco gasping for breath, and the clear water on the floor started to be clouded by red. Harry knelt down next to Draco, his heart racing. The spell had carved deep cuts in his chest and face, and he was quickly bleeding out. “No, no, Draco, stay with me…” he whimpered, afraid to touch him in case it got worse.

He heard footsteps stride towards them, and Harry saw someone appear next to him. “Get out,” Snape growled at him. Still dazed, Harry obeyed, not taking his eyes off Draco’s bleeding body until he was out of the bathroom.

\---

They apparated back into the Astronomy tower. Dumbledore was quickly ailing, and Harry had to support his weight as he led him to a seat. “We should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said.

Dumbledore shook his head firmly. “No. Only Professor Snape can know of this. Find him and speak to no one else.” He pressed the locket into Harry’s hand.

Harry noticed something outside the window and crossed the room to get a closer look. He gasped. “Professor…” The Dark Mark was swirling in the undulating clouds.

“Find Professor Snape,” Dumbledore repeated.

Harry started to descend the stairs to the tower. However, he heard footsteps coming up towards him. Withdrawing to the floor below, he hid as Draco ascended the stairs past him. Realisation suddenly struck him: it was Dumbledore Draco was commanded to kill. He reached for his wand but found himself staring at Snape, who had his wand pointed at Harry.

“ _Expelliarmus_.” Dumbledore’s wand flew out of his hand.

“Draco,” Harry heard Dumbledore say. “You don’t have to do this. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” Draco said, his voice strained. “Don’t you understand? I have to do this. I have to kill you. Or he’ll kill me. He’ll kill my whole family.” Harry watched him roll up his sleeve, to show Dumbledore his Dark Mark, just as he had done to Harry in the bathroom.

“Draco…”

Draco pointed his wand at Dumbledore. Harry held his breath. He waited. He could hear Draco breathing heavily. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Draco lowered his wand with a sob. “I can’t,” he whined.

Snape ascended the stairs and appeared behind Draco. Harry saw Dumbledore frown at him. “Severus, please.”

This time there was no hesitation. Snape aimed his wand. “ _Avada Kedavra_.”

A green light struck Dumbledore and Harry let out a cry. He managed to pull himself out of shock in time to chase Snape down the stairs of the tower and outside. “He trusted you!” he yelled as he raced after him. “He trusted you and you killed him!” He sent hex after hex but Snape kept blocking him. Finally, Harry had had enough. “ _Sectumsempra_!”

Snape turned and blocked the curse, sending Harry flying backwards. “You dare use my own spells against me?” he snarled. “That’s right. I am the Half-Blood Prince.”

He turned and left Harry gasping for breath on the ground.

\---

Harry broke up with Ginny after Dumbledore’s funeral. They both knew that now was not the right time for a relationship, and Harry didn’t want to put her in any more danger. But he also knew that his relationship with Ginny wasn’t deep. It was what they both needed at the time, as two lonely kids. It was nice. But it wasn’t for forever. Harry loved her, sure, but it had become more like love for a sister. He didn’t tell any of that to Ginny, though. Or Ron.

The three of them were in the Astronomy tower. Harry had read the letter encased in the – fake – Horcrux and they had decided to find the other Horcruxes together.

“He couldn’t do it, in the end,” Harry said, breaking the silence. “Draco couldn’t kill Dumbledore.” The others quietly regarded him. “He’s still good, deep down. I want to believe that.”

“If he was good, he would’ve stayed with us,” Ron said bitterly.

“No, Harry’s right. He’s protecting himself and his family,” Hermione said. “But you do need to let him go, Harry. He might not be a bad person, but he’s still a Death-Eater. Voldemort could get to you through him.”

Harry sighed, holding back tears. “I know.”

He had to let Draco go.

He couldn’t, but he had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao sorry :(


	6. Seventh Year

Harry couldn’t sleep. For the past week, every time he closed his eyes he saw visions. Visions of Voldemort slaughtering wizards and Muggles alike. Visions of him sending his snake after anyone he suspected of betrayal. Visions of him forcing Draco – poor Draco – to torture those brought to Malfoy Manor by the Snatchers. He could easily read the reluctance on Draco’s face, even as Bellatrix’s laugh rang in his ears.

 _Draco isn’t a bad person_ , he kept saying to himself.

Merlin, he missed him. Even after everything he did.

Would Draco even forgive him, after what he himself had done to him?

He knew that Ron and Hermione were tiptoeing around him, careful not to set him off into another spiral of feeling sorry for himself. But Ron and Hermione had each other, he could see that now. Draco had noticed it years before, maybe even before the others had even realised their own feelings. He felt incredibly alone, even with his two best friends. He wanted to be _wanted_.

Maybe he shouldn’t have broken up with Ginny.

But he knew that he had done the right thing. He would have been using Ginny, and he couldn’t do that to her.

“We need to keep moving,” Ron said from the entrance to the tent. “Unless you want to sleep. I know you haven’t been doing much of that lately.”

“No, I’m fine.” Harry got up from the bed. “Let’s go.”

Ron gave him a look that told Harry that he knew he wasn’t fine, but he wasn’t going to ask.

\---

Dancing with Hermione was a nice distraction.

A distraction from the dreams he had still been having. A distraction from the fact that they were no closer to finding the other Horcruxes, let alone destroying them. A distraction from the fact that Ron was gone and they were infinitely stronger with him than without.

Harry thought back to the Yule Ball, and his dance with Draco. The one that had caused the scandal in the Daily Prophet. It was one of the happiest moments of his life. Before Voldemort had returned, before Cedric and hundreds of others had been killed, before Draco had defected.

And now he was trapped in Malfoy Manor and Harry was on the run.

Dancing with Hermione was a distraction – and maybe Harry needed a distraction – but it wasn’t going to solve anything.

\---

The Snatchers brought them into Malfoy Manor. Harry was thrown to the floor in front of Bellatrix and the Malfoys. Draco held an emotionless expression on his face.

“And who do we have here?” Bellatrix hissed gleefully.

“Suspicious young wizards. Their names weren’t on the list, but we took them in anyway,” one of the Snatchers said.

Bellatrix beckoned a terrified Draco towards Harry. “Go on. Is it him?” Draco hesitated, and Bellatrix pushed him further forwards. “Get a good look at him.”

Draco knelt down in front of Harry. Harry knew that Draco had recognised him as soon as they entered the room. And now he was going to give them away. Unless…

“It’s not him,” Draco said.

“Are you sure, Draco?” Lucius asked, frowning. “If we were the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord…”

“I think I would know my own classmate,” Draco replied, his eyes still on Harry. “I’ve never seen any of them in my life.”

Bellatrix searched his face. Finding what she was looking for, she turned to the Snatchers. “Take them to the basement.”

It only took a short while, however, for Dobby to arrive and free them, along with Luna, Dean, Ollivander, and Griphook. “On my count,” Harry whispered. They could hear Hermione’s screams from up the stairs.

Ron couldn’t take it any longer. “We’re going,” he said, racing up the stairs.

“Alright, not on my count,” Harry said under his breath and followed him.

In the resulting chaos, Ron and Harry faced off Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco. Just after Harry had Stupefied Lucius, there was a cry. “Stop! Stop it now!”

Bellatrix had hold of Hermione with her wand against her neck. “Put down your wands!” she commanded. Ron and Harry dropped their wands and Bellatrix motioned for Draco to pick them up. “Look at that. It’s Harry Potter, all good as new for the Dark Lord.” She looked at Draco. “Call him.”

Draco was still frozen to the spot, clutching the wands. Lucius pushed in front of him and revealed his Dark Mark.

Then Dobby almost dropped a chandelier on them.

Bellatrix was screaming. Harry wrestled the wands from Draco.

And then they had escaped, to a beach. Harry took a deep breath of the salty air.

They hadn’t escaped unscathed, though.

Harry held Dobby as he died. Afterwards, he buried him, helped by Ron and Hermione. He wondered if he would ever get the chance to tell Draco. Dobby had told him that Draco had treated him with decency while he was in their service.

Bill Weasley took them in, and he and Fleur cooked them dinner. Harry fell asleep in a warm bed, but his dreams were still clouded by visions.

\---

“Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. It has to be in here somewhere.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione started searching the Room of Requirement. Harry didn’t hold out much hope: the sheer amount of junk in the room was ridiculous.

Suddenly, he remembered something.

He knew exactly where the diadem was because he had put it there in the first place.

“Follow me!” he called to Ron and Hermione, and he ran around piles of objects to the other end of the room. And there it was, on top of Snape’s old Potions textbook, right where he had left it.

“The luck of that happening,” Ron marvelled as Harry picked it up.

“Have you got the basilisk fang?”

“Playing dress-up, are we, Potter?” said a familiar voice behind them. Draco was a few metres away from them, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Just as he was on their first day at Hogwarts. “It’s a shame we caught you in here. No one else will get to hear you scream.”

Even those words sounded half-hearted to Harry. He stood his ground. “Why did you let me live?” he asked.

“ _What_?”

“Why did you tell Bellatrix it wasn’t me?”

Draco blinked, caught off guard by the question. His gaze darted to the wand in Harry’s hand. _His_ wand. “Give me my wand.”

“No. Besides, its allegiance is to me now. If you want it back, you’ll have to take it from me. Maybe even kill me.” Harry had missed their banter.

Draco scowled. “That should be no problem.” He raised his wand and fired a blast.

Harry fired right back, and the two of them duelled around the piles of junk. Hermione similarly took on Goyle, while Ron chased after Crabbe. After a few minutes, however, Ron came racing back, quickly followed by Crabbe. The place where they had just come from was starting to glow orange.

“He’s only gone and cast Fiendfyre!” Ron cried at Harry and Hermione.

Draco overheard and turned to Crabbe. “You _idiot_. I wanted them dead, not us!”

A great, fiery dragon rounded the corner and made straight for them. The six wizards fled. Harry remained with Ron and Hermione, and as fire started to flood the room, they managed to find three brooms. “Come on!” Ron yelled as they rose into the air. “We have to go!”

“Wait!” Harry shouted back, looking around the room. He spotted movement near the top of a pile of objects. “Over there!”

“If he gets us all killed…” Ron muttered as they flew quickly towards Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, who were climbing to the top of the mountain of junk. They saw Crabbe lose his footing and fall into the sea of flames. Draco watched in horror. As he and Goyle reached the top, they looked at the rising Fiendfyre.

“Draco!” Harry called. Draco turned towards him and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight. Harry stuck out his arm and Draco grabbed it, using the momentum to swing himself onto the broom. Ron did the same with Goyle. Draco held on tight to Harry, burying his face between his shoulder blades as the five of them flew towards the exit. They all but collapsed outside the Room of Requirement. The diadem flew out of Harry’s hands and skidded across the floor towards Draco, who picked it up.

“Destroy it!” Ron shouted at him.

Draco stared at the diadem, then back at Harry. “Please,” Harry said, holding out the basilisk fang.

“Do it!” Ron yelled. “We saved your life!”

Draco shook his head, took the basilisk fang from Harry and drove it into the diadem. Harry felt blinding agony and screamed. Hermione looked at Draco. “Throw it in!” she told him. Draco kicked the diadem into the blazing Room of Requirement and Hermione sealed the doors.

Goyle ran down the corridor and out of sight. Panting, Harry looked up at Draco, who was staring back at him in horror. “Crabbe was still in there.”

“He’s dead, Draco,” Hermione said quietly.

“What was that?” Draco asked.

“A Horcrux,” she replied. “It’s had a part of Voldemort’s soul in it. As long as it existed, he couldn’t truly die.”

Draco blinked. “So… I just…”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“He’s going to kill me,” Draco whimpered. “I just betrayed him.”

“You didn’t know,” Harry said. “Just keep out of sight.”

Draco backed away from them before turning to run down the corridor in the same direction as Goyle.

“I guess you were right, Harry,” Ron said. “He’s not all bad.”

\---

“Don’t kill me. Please. I’m one of you. My parents have been loyal to Voldemort since the First Wizarding War.”

They recognised that voice. As they turned the corner, Ron and Hermione spotted Draco backing away from a Death-Eater who was aiming his wand at him. “Stupefy!” Harry cast from under the Invisibility Cloak. The Death-Eater flew into a wall and didn’t get back up.

As they rushed past, Draco called out. “Potter!” They stopped but didn’t remove the Cloak. “Thank you,” Draco said.

Harry and Ron continued onwards.

\---

“Is Draco alive?”

Harry made the slightest nod.

Narcissa turned back to Voldemort. “He is dead.”

\---

Harry was being carried back to Hogwarts by Hagrid. He heard a commotion as the Hogwarts students and staff came to see Voldemort’s arrival.

“Harry Potter is dead!”

There was a collective gasp. Professor McGonagall screamed, a noise full of pain and grief.

“Harry Potter is dead!” Voldemort repeated, eliciting a laugh from the Death-Eaters. “And I will spare any of you who surrender.”

There was a tense silence as Voldemort waited for volunteers. Harry heard Lucius beckon Draco over. “Draco. Come here.”

Narcissa eventually joined him. “Draco?”

There were hesitant footsteps. “He saved your life,” Harry heard Ron say.

“Well done, Draco,” Voldemort said. “Well done. Anyone else?”

And then Neville stepped forward.

\---

Harry rolled out of Hagrid’s arms and landed on all fours on the ground. There was another collective gasp, this one filled with hope. Harry looked up at Voldemort, who had turned around and was staring at him in pure shock.

“Potter!” Harry heard someone cry. It was Draco, throwing something at him as he raced back towards the Hogwarts students. Harry caught it. It was his wand.

“Yes, Draco!” He heard Ron cry.

Harry aimed his wand at Voldemort just in time to block a hex sent towards him. Everything else started to blur as Harry focused on the duel.

\---

Voldemort was dead.

Voldemort was dead and the war was over.

Harry had thrown the Elder Wand off the bridge and into the ravine. He had watched his friends reunite, celebrating their victory and mourning those they’d lost. But the job still didn’t feel complete.

He found Draco back in the Astronomy tower. Draco was on what remained of the balcony: there was nothing left to stop someone from walking right off. Harry approached him slowly, making some noise to let him know that he was there.

Draco turned his head. “Potter. Not celebrating?”

“Are you?”

Draco turned back to the view. “I don’t feel much like it.”

Harry joined him, leaning against the wall. “Me neither.”

“No?”

“Too many people died. And they were all protecting me. Even though I had to die anyway.” Harry slid down the wall and sat with his legs dangling off the balcony. “Maybe if I had figured it out sooner, they’d still be alive.”

Draco sat down next to him. “I’m sorry about Fred,” he said. “I watched it happen. And I didn’t do anything.” He wiped a stray tear from his face. “Lupin and Tonks too. I mean, they had a _child_. And Colin _was_ a child.”

“It’s not your fault,” Harry said.

“I still made the wrong choices,” Draco replied tiredly. They sat in silence for a moment. “Last year I used to come up here a lot,” he said eventually. “I used to… consider… jumping off here.”

Harry looked over at him in shock. “Draco…”

“It would have been a cowardly thing to do, I know. But I didn’t see a way out.”

Harry moved his hand to cover Draco’s. “I’m glad you didn’t… do that.”

“I was thinking about doing it just now, before you came up.”

Harry’s stomach dropped. “ _Draco_.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“What’s going to happen to me? I’ll be put on trial, and there’s a good chance I’ll get sent to Azkaban, and I’d rather die than go there. And even if they let me go, I’ll be hated for the rest of my life. Because of this.” He showed Harry his Dark Mark again.

Harry shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. What would you even get sent to Azkaban for?”

Draco counted on his fingers. “Attempted murder, conspiring to murder, torture, assault… oh, and let’s not forget being a Death-Eater.”

“I’ll testify for you,” Harry said. “You were forced into all of that. And you saved my life. Twice. If you hadn’t thrown me my wand…”

“ _My_ wand,” Draco interrupted.

“Then Voldemort would have killed me before I’d even got up,” Harry continued. “Not to mention you destroyed a Horcrux. You’re basically a hero.”

Draco scoffed.

“I’m telling the truth,” Harry said.

“What happened to Dobby?” Draco asked.

Harry felt his heart sink. “He’s dead,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Oh,” Draco said after a moment. “I’m sorry. He was a good house-elf.”

Harry hummed. “We buried him. In a nice spot by the sea.”

“Oh,” Draco said again. They fell into silence once more.

“Hey, here’s something funny,” Harry said. Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, maybe not ‘funny’. But you know the Elder Wand? Voldemort’s wand?”

“Yes?”

“It was never his. Possession of it transfers to whoever defeated the previous owner.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “So when I disarmed Dumbledore…”

“You technically became its owner. Until I disarmed you at Malfoy Manor.”

Draco smiled. “If only I’d been able to use it.”

“That’s a terrifying thought.” They both laughed.

“So if Voldemort had known that I was the owner…”

“Let’s not go into that, shall we?” Harry interrupted.

“What did you do with it?”

“I got rid of it,” Harry replied. “No one needs that kind of power. It only leads to people getting hurt.”

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor,” Draco said.

They watched a flock of birds off in the distance. The sun was starting to set, colouring the sky a pale peach.

“I heard from Professor McGonagall that they were going to let us retake the year, if we wanted,” Harry said. “Hermione jumped at the idea. And Ron will follow her anywhere, I’m sure. I think I’ll stay on as well. I don’t have anywhere else to go, really.”

“What do you want to do, after this?” Draco asked.

Harry sighed. “I don’t know. I suppose I could be an Auror.”

Draco frowned at him. “Really, Potter? You’ve spent your whole life fighting evil, and you want to keep doing that?”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

“How about… anything other than that?”

Harry snorted. “What about you, then?”

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, how about you come back here, then? For another year.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Draco scoffed. “Firstly, I might be off to Azkaban anyway…”

“You’re not going to Azkaban,” Harry said firmly.

“And secondly, everyone here hates me. I’d be miserable.”

“Not everyone hates you,” Harry said. “Ron and Hermione don’t. I certainly don’t. And I don’t think Neville and Luna do either. The others will come around soon enough. Or I’ll make them.”

“Ooh, scary, Potter. Very threatening,” Draco teased.

“Shut up. And will you please start calling me by my first name now?”

Draco considered it for a moment. “No,” he replied.

“Fine. But at least come back here next year.” Harry pouted at him. “Please? For me?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe no update for a lil bit?? bc the next chapter is a monstrosity (it's like 5 times the size of the others lmao) and needs some editing :/ but uhhh hope you enjoyed this chapter


	7. Eighth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "eighth" is such a difficult word to spell like why are there two "h"s i hate it
> 
> i'm sorry this took so long - proofreading is a bitch lmao - but i hope the length of this chapter makes it worth the wait it's almost the same length as the entire rest of the fic lol 
> 
> i'd like to preface this with the fact that i love the weasleys. all of them. including percy he doesn't deserve *quite* as much hate as he gets
> 
> also i'm sorry the pov is kinda inconsistent in this chapter but i had an idea that involved harry not being in some of the scenes and i just ran with it bc the idea made me cry and i also cried writing it and i don't generally cry at things that aren't *my life* so haha enjoy being sad i guess

“Potter!”

Harry turned around and made eye contact with Draco. Both of them broke into a smile and Harry ran down the platform towards Draco, leaving Ron, Hermione and Ginny calling after him. Harry wrapped Draco in a tight hug, feeling his body tense out of surprise. “I wasn’t sure you were coming,” Harry said.

“Well, I only decided to come back last week,” Draco explained.

Someone cleared their throat close to them. Harry pulled back and regarded Lucius Malfoy. “Mr Malfoy.”

“Mr Potter. I didn’t realise you and my son were… so close.”

“Well, we made up after the battle,” Harry said, ignoring the way Draco’s cheeks coloured slightly.

Narcissa nudged her husband gently. Lucius sighed. “I suppose some thanks are in order,” he said somewhat reluctantly. “Without your testimony, we would most likely not be here.”

“It’s the least I could do after your wife and son saved my life,” Harry replied.

The train gave a howl, signalling that it would be leaving soon. Narcissa placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Have a good time, son,” she said to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Harry and Draco joined Ron, Hermione, and the others, who had loaded all their luggage onto the train. Hermione and Luna both hugged Draco as they boarded the train, and Ron offered him a slightly awkward handshake.

“Is this what being liked feels like?” Draco asked Harry.

“Yeah. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Jury’s out.”

\---

The Sorting took longer than usual, due to the fact that many students had been held back from starting Hogwarts the previous year. Most of the eighth years had congregated at the far end of the Gryffindor table, minus a couple of Slytherin students who were still sat with their own house. Once the Sorting was over, McGonagall – _Headmistress_ McGonagall – stood up. The hall quickly fell silent.

“Good evening, students, and welcome back to Hogwarts,” she began. “The past few years have been challenging for so many of us, and while we must remember those who sacrificed so much for us, it does not do to dwell in the past. This year, more than any other, we must remind ourselves that we are infinitely stronger when we are united. There are, of course, several changes for this year. We have several new teachers and a new curriculum. Many students have returned to complete their studies, and will be housed in separate dormitories. Eighth years, you will not be separated by house, in the hope that you come to recognise that unity, not division, will help us to rebuild.”

The feast was just as good as Harry remembered. As he tucked into his own plate, Hermione sighed at Ron, who was shoving as much food into his mouth as he could. Neville was talking to Seamus and Dean about his summer work experience at a Muggle plant conservation centre, and in return they were sharing stories of the football games Dean had dragged Seamus to over the holiday. Luna, who had joined them, started asking Dean some rather odd questions about the Muggle sport.

Harry turned to Draco next to him, who was picking at his own food. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Draco blinked up at him. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous.”

Harry gently kicked him under the table. “Sure you don’t.”

After the feast, McGonagall led the eighth years to the tower that housed their new dormitories. Instead of a single colour like the house common rooms, the eighth year common room had accents from all four houses. There was a large red sofa next to a blue armchair, yellow tapestries hanging from the ceiling, and a luxurious green rug in the centre of the room. The common room also housed a sink and kettle in a small alcove, and a large bay window that overlooked the clear night sky, framed by silver curtains and a blue window seat. There was a grand staircase at the end of the room that split into two, leading to the boys’ and girls’ dormitories. The students marvelled at the sight.

“This will be your home for the next year,” McGonagall said. “Your dormitories have been assigned in alphabetical order instead of by house, and I trust you will treat each other with civility.” Her gaze lingered on Blaise and Pansy, the only other Slytherins to return to Hogwarts for their eighth year. “This year is about unity, and I hope that you will realise in your close proximity that you have much more in common with each other than you thought.”

Once she had left, Harry sat down on the sofa. Hermione and Ron followed suit and Draco perched on the armchair next to them. “So,” Harry said.

“So,” Ron echoed.

Dean came up to them. “Harry, Ron! Oh, you too, Draco! We’re in a room together,” he said.

Harry grinned. “Awesome, Dean.”

“We also have Zabini, which is rough, but he seems more subdued this year. He even smiled at me earlier.”

“What about Seamus and Neville?” Ron asked.

“They’ve both got Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in their rooms,” Dean replied. “But I think Seamus is going to try and sneak into ours every night. If you don’t mind.”

“The more the merrier,” Harry replied.

“It’d be weird not having you two in the same place all the time,” Draco added. “You’re practically inseparable.”

Dean’s cheeks darkened and he smiled sheepishly. “Well…” he said sheepishly.

“Oi, Dean!” Seamus called from the other side of the room. “Justin wants to know about football. Dunno why, it’s incredibly dull.”

“And yet you were the one yelling at the referee for the entire West Ham versus Chelsea match,” Dean countered, giving the others an apologetic smile before joining Seamus.

\---

Harry gasped as he woke up. He looked around in the darkness and was relieved that he hadn’t seemed to have woken anyone up. But Draco’s bed was empty.

Harry wandered out of the dormitory and padded down the stairs. Someone was in the alcove with the kettle. “Draco?” Harry guessed.

Draco poked his head out of the alcove. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nightmares.”

Draco grimaced. “Me too. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please.”

Harry sat on the sofa while Draco made them both a mug of tea. When he brought it over to him, Draco sat awkwardly on the armchair.

Harry nodded at the spot on the sofa next to him. “I don’t bite.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but sat next to him anyway, still keeping a bit of distance between them. “Do you… want to talk about it?” Draco asked hesitantly.

“Just… the battle. People dying. Me not being able to stop it.”

Draco nodded. “Same here. But I also directly hurt a lot of those people.” His voice was shaky. “McGonagall told us to move on, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling guilty about it.”

“Well, that tells me that you’re a good person, even after everything,” Harry said.

Draco hummed, but didn’t say anything else.

Harry sipped his tea. “What class are you most looking forward to this year?”

“Really?” Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a sorry excuse for small talk if ever I saw one.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Potions,” Draco said after a moment of thought. “Slughorn’s not bad, I guess.”

“It helps that you’re good at it,” Harry said.

“From what I remember, you were top of the class in sixth year,” Draco said.

“That was only because of the book.”

Draco frowned. “What book?”

“Snape’s book. It had his notes in it. It was also where I found…” Harry fell silent and stared at his lap.

“What? What did you find?”

“That curse,” Harry said quietly. “ _Sectumsempra_.”

Draco tensed. “Oh,” he said after a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “I don’t think I ever apologised for it. I really had no idea what it would do.”

Draco leaned back against the sofa. “I forgive you. Merlin, I was about to use the Cruciatus curse on you, anyway.”

Harry remembered. “I think sixth year was difficult for all of us,” he said.

“Mm-hm.”

“I think I’m looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts the most,” Harry said. “Ron said Bill was teaching us this year.”

“That’ll make an improvement from most of the teachers we’ve had,” Draco said.

Harry hummed in agreement. “I miss Remus,” he said after a moment.

“I know,” Draco said. He tentatively took hold of Harry’s hand.

“I miss all of them.”

“I know,” Draco repeated. Harry could tell that Draco felt slightly awkward comforting him, but at least he was trying. His presence alone seemed to help Harry. “Drink your tea,” he said. Harry did.

\---

“Today, we’ll be learning about a spell that I’m sure you’re all aware of, even if you cannot perform it yet,” Bill Weasley said as he began the class. It had been several weeks since the start of term and the eighth years had come to realise that the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes were just as much challenging as they were rewarding. Bill – not Professor Weasley, just Bill – was an easygoing teacher who still liked to push his students to their full potential. “This is the Patronus charm.” He raised his wand. “ _Expecto Patronum_.” White light burst from the tip of his wand, and a great, glowing bird flew out and around the room. Entranced, the students watched the bird until it dissolved into thin wisps of light as Bill lowered his wand. “Can anyone tell me the uses for a Patronus?” Bill asked. “Hermione?”

Hermione lowered her hand. “A Patronus is an extension of an individual’s personality, and as such draws upon the unknown but necessary within said individual. It is an extremely powerful defence spell, particularly against Dementors.”

“That’s correct,” Bill said. “Now, because it is such a powerful charm, it is said to be extremely difficult to produce. Many witches and wizards, in fact, never produce a corporeal Patronus in their lives. But _I_ think that the reason so many can’t is because they don’t believe that they can,” he said conspiratorially. “By the end of the year, my aim is for all of you to be able to cast at least a non-corporeal Patronus.”

He instructed the students to choose the happiest memory they could think of and use it as a power source for the charm. “Now, don’t worry if you don’t get it straight away,” he said. “It took me years to be able to cast a non-corporeal Patronus, and even longer to cast a corporeal one. Whenever you’re ready, raise your wands and cast _Expecto Patronum_.”

Several immediately emitted cool light, and a few select students immediately cast corporeal Patronuses, having already done so either in the D.A. or during the Battle of Hogwarts. Bill nodded, impressed. “Well done, you lot. Whoever taught you to do that before me must be a pretty decent teacher.” He winked at Harry, who smiled back sheepishly. He noticed Draco at the side of the room, his wand in the air but not saying anything. He frowned at him but didn’t say anything.

At the end of the class, he gathered the students back together. “Good work today. Don’t worry if you didn’t quite get it, we’ll try again after Christmas so keep practicing in your own time,” Bill said before dismissing them.

“Your brother is pretty cool,” Seamus said to Ron as they left the classroom. Ron complained that it was embarrassing having his own brother as his teacher.

“I don’t expect it’ll be long before everyone can cast a Patronus,” Hermione observed. “About half of the class could do it by the end of the lesson.”

Harry noticed that Draco didn’t say anything for the duration of the walk back to the eighth year common room. He resolved to ask him what was wrong, but then Neville yelled something about his toad going missing again and the thought was wiped from his mind.

\---

Harry and Draco were walking back from Potions one evening when Draco stopped in his tracks. Harry turned to him with a frown. “What is it?”

“Do you hear that?”

Harry listened. Sure enough, he heard the muffled sound of someone crying. They followed the noise until they found a Slytherin student, probably no older than twelve, crying quietly in an empty corridor. Harry immediately knelt down in front of her. “Hey. What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

The girl shook her head.

“I’m Harry, and this is Draco.” Draco waved slightly awkwardly. “What’s your name?”

“Maisie,” she replied wetly.

“Are you a first year?”

Maisie nodded.

“First year can be a bit scary,” Harry said. “Do you want to tell us why you’re crying?”

“Some older students were making fun of me,” Maisie said. “Because I’m in Slytherin.”

Harry saw Draco’s grip on his wand tighten. “Who were they? We can go and sort them out.”

“Draco,” Harry said quietly, which shut him up. He turned back to Maisie. “That’s no reason to make fun of someone, is it? What did they say?”

“They said… they called me…” Maisie said between sobs. “A Death-Eater.”

Harry saw Draco flinch in his peripheral vision. “Well, something that a lot of people don’t understand is that no house at Hogwarts is inherently good or bad. And that includes Slytherin. Being sorted into Slytherin doesn’t make you a bad person. Draco’s a Slytherin, and he’s one of my best friends.”

Maisie blinked up at Draco. “Are you good?”

The question clearly stunned Draco. Harry thought back to what Draco had asked Sirius in third year.

_“Was he a good man?”_

_“In the end.”_

Eventually, Draco smiled at her. “I am now.”

“I’ll talk to Headmistress McGonagall. She’ll want to do something about it,” Harry said. “If this happens again, come and find either one of us, okay? Or Professor Slughorn.”

Maisie nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

As Harry left, Draco whispered something to Maisie. She let out a wet laugh and whispered something back. “What did you say to each other?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Draco said. Harry knew that tone. That was the tone of _I’m planning something devious and you’re not going to know anything about it_ _until it happens_.

And Harry turned out to be right. The next day, three Gryffindor third years sat down at breakfast and found that for some reason everything they ate and drank tasted like fish oil. Harry noticed the commotion further down the table and turned to Draco, who was drinking his tea rather smugly. “Did you do that?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco replied.

\---

“Careful, Potter.”

As he rounded the corner Harry almost walked into Draco, who was coming out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He quickly backed up. “Sorry. Sorry.”

His eyes immediately fixed on Draco’s chest. His body was pale and kind of scrawny, and there was the faintest trace of abs on his torso. There were still droplets of water on his shoulders. But what drew Harry’s attention were the scars crossing Draco’s chest, all the way up to his neck. Harry was horrified.

Draco noticed Harry staring at him and frowned. “It’s rude to stare.”

Harry ignored him. “I did that, didn’t I?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper. He realised that this was the first time he’d seen Draco wearing anything less than a long-sleeved shirt. “Draco, I…”

“You’ve already apologised for it,” Draco interrupted bitterly. “It’s done. It’s in the past.”

Harry didn’t realise that he was reaching towards Draco’s chest until Draco took the smallest step backwards. He quickly withdrew his hand. “Sorry. I… sorry,” he muttered, quickly edging past Draco and into the dormitory.

When Draco came into the dormitory later, fully clothed, he stopped Harry before he could say anything. “If you say ‘sorry’ one more time, I will throw myself into the lake and let myself be claimed by the giant squid.”

Harry didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he gave Draco a shit-eating grin. “I apologise for earlier,” he said.

Draco glared at him. “Potter, I swear you’ll be the death of me.”

\---

One morning, a week or so before the end of term, Harry was sitting in the Hall with Draco and Ginny when Ron approached them rather nervously. “Hey, Draco?”

“Yes, Weasley?” Draco replied. “You don’t need more help with your Potions homework, do you?”

“No. Actually…” Ron shifted from foot to foot. “I was wondering what your plans for the Christmas holidays were.”

“Staying here, probably. My parents are going to France in a couple of days, and they won’t be back until the start of the year. Why?”

“Well, my parents – and I – wanted to know if you wanted to spend the holiday with us in the Burrow. Hermione and Harry are both coming, and there’s room for you too if you want.”

Draco blinked. “Are… are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Even after…?” Draco didn’t finish the question, but they all knew what he meant.

Ron nodded. “My parents don’t blame you, you know. Neither does George, and neither do I.” He sat down opposite Draco. “I saw you at Fred’s funeral,” he said quietly, so that only Draco, Harry and Ginny could hear. “Standing at the back.”

Draco lowered his gaze. “I thought it was the least I could do.”

“We’ve been friends for longer than we’ve been enemies,” Ron said. “Harry’s basically been family since first year, and Hermione will literally be family soon, hopefully…”

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “Ron!”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ron continued, blushing. “It’s about time you became family, too.”

Harry noticed that Draco was holding back tears. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Draco turned to Ginny. “Really?” he repeated.

Ginny smiled at him. “Of course.”

“In that case… I’d love to. Tell your parents thank you for me,” Draco said.

“I will, yeah,” Ron replied. Harry looked between the two of them, smiling. Both Ron and Draco weren’t great at expressing their feelings in words, but he was rather proud of them today.

“Okay, now that that is sorted, can we get back to you and Hermione?” Ginny asked Ron, who turned even redder than his hair.

\---

So at the end of term, Harry travelled back to the Burrow on the Hogwarts Express with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco. Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Luna also joined them for the train ride, as did Blaise and Pansy, who turned out to be rather decent people after sharing rooms with the Gryffindors for a term. They all packed into a single carriage and practically emptied the trolley of snacks. Their laughter became so loud that a couple of fifth year Prefects opened the door to quiet them down, but upon seeing who was inside, they quickly left them to it.

Shortly before the train arrived in London, Bill knocked on the door to the compartment. “There you all are,” he said, scanning the students on the seats. He then noticed even more students basically sitting on top of each other on the floor. “And by all, I mean _all_ ,” he added.

“Are you coming back to the Burrow with us?” Ginny asked.

Bill nodded. “Mum wants us to be together for as long as possible this holiday,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure Fleur will be there by the time we arrive, too. Oh, and Charlie’s coming back next week, just in time for Christmas. Harry, you remember Charlie, don’t you?”

Harry nodded. He’d only met him briefly, just after the Battle of Hogwarts had ended, but hadn’t spoken to him at length – choosing instead to let him grieve with the rest of his family.

“Well, I’ll come and find you at the station,” Bill said before shutting the door.

Arthur Weasley was waiting for them at the station, along with George. “Hello, you lot,” Arthur said cheerfully. “Are there really that many of you? Brings back memories of when Bill here was still a student, and we had to bring all of you to the station because your mother wasn’t going to trust Ron and Ginny at home after what happened with the twins…” His smile faltered. “Well, let’s get going then.”

They apparated to the Burrow. Molly Weasley was soon rushing outside to welcome them in. “Bill, sweetheart, how was your first term of teaching? Ron wrote to me and said you’re brilliant. Oh, I’m so proud.”

Bill smirked at Ron, who blushed. “Mum!”

“Come on inside, everyone! Ginny, wait, give your mother a hug! Oh, Hermione, hello, still keeping the boys out of trouble, are we? George, come here, how are things at the shop? Harry! There you are! Come here! Oh, your hair is very long now, when was the last time you had it cut?”

“I’m growing it out,” Harry said into Molly’s shoulder. “Hermione last cut it a little over a year ago.”

“Well, it already looks very handsome on you, dear. Oh, and here’s Draco!” Molly rushed over to where Draco was standing. She didn’t hesitate before pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s lovely to see you, sweetheart. Any friend of Ron’s is practically family to us.” Draco was staring at Harry in surprise, clearly shocked at the hug and being called ‘sweetheart’. Harry just grinned at him. He knew exactly how Draco was feeling. He had also come from a home where he’d never received such affection. “Come in, come in. Else you’ll catch your death.”

Percy was already in the Burrow and nodded a greeting to Harry as he entered. Fleur glided down the stairs and embraced her husband as Molly told them the sleeping arrangements. “Bill and Fleur are in his and Charlie’s old room. George has moved into yours and Percy’s room, Ron, so you’ll be in his old room with Harry and Draco – don’t give me that face, once Charlie comes back that room will be full to bursting. Hermione, you’ll be with Ginny.”

“But Mum…”

“Ron, you know the rules.”

“Then how come Bill and Fleur get to be in the same room?”

“Because they’re married, you silly billy! Besides, that won’t be an issue anymore…”

“Mum,” Bill hissed, “we haven’t told them yet.”

“Told us what?” Ginny asked.

Fleur smiled. “We decided to wait to tell you together.” They looked at each other, then back at the family. “We’re going to have a baby,” they chorused.

Ginny squealed in delight. Ron turned pink and whimpered something about becoming an uncle. Harry and Hermione offered them both their congratulations.

“Alright, dinner will be ready soon, so how about you go and unpack?” Molly shooed her guests up the stairs. “Ron, Ginny, not you. Help me set the table, please.”

“Can I help?” Draco asked.

“No, darling, don’t worry. You’re our guest. Harry, take Draco upstairs, would you? You know where the twins’ old room is.”

Harry led Draco up the stairs, stopping at the door to Fred and George’s old room. He was hesitant to open the door, all of a sudden. He understood why George hadn’t wanted to sleep there anymore.

“You feel it too,” Draco observed.

Harry nodded. “I don’t think Fred would want the room to stay empty, though. It’s just… hard.”

“I know.”

Harry steeled himself, then gently pushed the door open and flicked on the light. The room was small, with two single beds next to each other, separated only by a small bedside table. It was tidy, and the beds had been stripped and clean sheets had been spread over them, but it had remained otherwise untouched. A photograph was on the bedside table and Harry picked it up. It was from years ago, with two identical young boys gleefully chasing after each other, ginger hair shining in the sunlight. He put it back in its place, quickly wiping his cheeks.

Draco had dropped his suitcase in the corner of the room. His face was ashen, just as Harry expected his own to be. “Shall we let Ron have first pick of the beds?” he asked.

“Good idea,” Harry replied.

Just then, Molly called them down for dinner.

Harry watched as Draco sat amid the chaos that was dinner at the Weasleys’, stunned. He quickly obliged when Molly asked him to pass the potatoes but was otherwise quiet.

“I bet this is rather different to your dinners at Malfoy Manor, eh, Draco?” Arthur asked.

“I think it’s lovely,” Draco replied. “Dinner at home is so quiet.”

“What I wouldn’t do for some peace and quiet sometimes,” Arthur chuckled.

Hermione had noticed that Percy was similarly subdued. “How’s your job at the Ministry, Percy?” she asked.

Percy blinked at her, as if surprised that she’d noticed him, let alone spoken to him. “Well, actually, I quit my job.”

The table fell silent. Harry quickly realised that this was news to the whole family.

“When I said peace and quiet, this isn’t what I meant,” Arthur muttered.

Molly shushed him. “When did you do that, Percy?”

“Last week. You see, I didn’t lie when I told you I was taking the Christmas holidays off to spend it here with you. I just neglected to tell you that I was going to be off permanently.” He grimaced. “I was going to wait to tell you in private, but now seems as good a time as any, apparently.”

Molly smiled. “Well, if it means I get to spend more time with you, then it’s not an issue, is it, Arthur?”

“Not at all, son. Do you know what else you want to do?”

Percy glanced down at his plate. “Again, I was going to wait to ask this, but… I was hoping I could work in your shop, George.”

George almost spat out his drink. “You? Work in a joke shop? No offence, Percy, but you have no sense of humour.”

“I do too have a sense of humour!” Percy exclaimed. “Besides, I could help balance the books, I could manage the till, I could clean up after closing.” He lowered his voice. “I know it won’t be the same, but I’d like to help. If you’d let me.”

George regarded him for a moment. Finally, he gave him a lopsided grin. “Course I’ll let you, Perce. Don’t let yourself think this makes you immune to any pranks, though.”

\---

After dinner, Harry, Hermione, and Draco helped Ron and Molly clear up. Molly attempted to shoo her guests away, but they all insisted. Once everything was clean, Molly went up to bed.

“I think I’ll take the sofa tonight,” Ron said to Harry and Draco. Hermione leaned into his side. “I don’t think I can face that room.”

“We understand,” Harry said.

“I used to go in there at night,” Ron said, “after I had nightmares. Mum and Dad were always exhausted, Bill and Charlie were at school a lot, and Percy never really knew how to comfort me. So, I used to find the twins. And George would hold me tight and tell me that what I saw in my nightmares, it wasn’t real, and that I was safe. And Fred…” Ron choked back a sob. “He’d promise to fight whatever had scared me.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron’s torso. Harry followed suit, hugging them both. Draco awkwardly rested a hand on Ron’s shoulder. They remained like that for several minutes, Ron silently crying into Harry’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?” Hermione asked once Ron had stopped crying.

“Nah. Go and get ready for bed before Ginny goes to sleep,” Ron said. “She gets grouchy if she doesn’t get at least nine hours.”

Hermione wiped a final tear from Ron’s cheek with her thumb before kissing him. Harry and Draco shared an awkward glance, as if they were witnessing something incredibly private. “I love you,” she said.

Ron blushed. “Yeah… me too.” Hermione rolled her eyes fondly and ascended the stairs.

“You know you’re actually going to have to tell her you love her at some point,” Draco said, going to the kitchen and switching on the kettle. “Especially if you plan on-”

“Shut up!” Ron hissed. “She could hear you. And… she knows I do… love her.”

“I mean you have to _tell her_. The big three words, in the correct order, said directly to her face,” Draco said.

“Draco is right, you know,” Harry chimed in.

“ _Nooo_ , you’re supposed to side with _me_ ,” Ron whined, walking to the living room to flop onto the sofa.

“And I thought Potter was dramatic,” Draco said under his breath.

“Hey!”

Eventually, Ron sent them upstairs to bed. Harry watched from halfway up the stairs as Draco placed a mug of hot tea on the table next to the sofa as he went.

When they entered the twins’ old room, they both stood looking at the beds. “Which one do you want?” Harry asked.

“I’d like to take George’s, if you don’t mind,” Draco replied.

“Sure.” They changed into their pyjamas on opposite sides of the small space, and then Harry watched as Draco slid into the bed that had a large capital G over it. Harry stared at the other bed. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb it.

Draco read Harry’s hesitation. “You can’t do it,” he observed.

“No.”

Draco sighed. “Come in here, then.” He shuffled over towards the wall, leaving a little space for Harry.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take the floor.”

“Potter, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Now get in.”

Reluctantly, Harry climbed into the bed next to Draco. It was a small space for one of them, let alone both, and their legs intertwined under the covers.

“Merlin,” Draco hissed. “Your feet are cold.”

“Shut up,” Harry said, casting _Nox_ on the light and putting his glasses on the bedside table. “I know this is different from what you’re used to.”

“I don’t mind it. It’s cosy. Nothing’s cosy back home.”

Harry hummed. “It’s big for me. I mean, anything’s big after my cupboard.”

“Your what?”

“My…” Harry blinked. “Have I never told you about the cupboard under the stairs?”

Harry couldn’t see much in the dark, let alone without his glasses, so he had to gauge Draco’s reaction by his shallow breathing. “Potter,” Draco said finally in a low voice, “are you telling me that you used to sleep in a _cupboard_?”

So Harry told him about his childhood with the Dursleys: how he would be shut in the cupboard for hours, only to be let out for chores; how some days he went without a full meal; how occasionally his uncle would use his belt on him. Draco listened silently. Once Harry was done, he let out a shaky breath.

“ _Harry_ …” Draco said, a single word filled with so much shock and pain.

“Really? I tell you about my childhood trauma and that’s when you decide to call me ‘Harry’?”

Draco nudged him. “Shut up,” he said weakly. “I mean… I’m so sorry you went through that. Merlin…”

“It’s in the past now. That part of my life… I’m happy to leave it behind.”

“And after all that you still turned out to be a good person.”

“I made some good friends,” Harry replied. “They kept me on the right track.”

Draco hummed. “Do you know where you’ll go after Hogwarts?”

“I’ll probably move into 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius left it to me. I’d like to do it up, you know? I think he always wanted to, to get rid of all the stuff from his family, but he was scared, or he never got around to it, I don’t know.”

“That would be nice.”

“You could come as well, if you wanted. There’s more than enough room. And your mum’s a Black, so by blood it’s technically more yours than mine.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you, Potter?”

Harry frowned at the use of his last name again. “I guess I am. Only if you want, though.”

Draco hummed again. “Maybe.”

They fell asleep not long afterwards, limbs tangled together. Harry’s face ended up being buried in Draco’s chest, and he drifted off to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

And if the Dursleys were to wake up a couple of weeks later to find slugs in every corner of their house, Harry would never know about it.

\---

“A fellow early bird, I see.”

Draco looked up to see Percy at the bottom of the stairs. He gave him an awkward wave. “Would you like some tea? The kettle’s boiled.”

“Yes please.” Percy sat down at the table and Draco joined him with two mugs of tea. “I’m usually the only one in the family awake at this hour. Dad and George should be down soon since they’re still working, but they always leave it to the last minute because they hate getting up. Mum sleeps in for as long as she can. Bill’s grown to be an extremely heavy sleeper, since he’s the oldest of us, and Ron and Ginny both snore until at least noon if they can help it. When Charlie comes home it’ll be even worse. His sleep schedule is practically nonexistent.”

“What about Fred?” Draco asked.

Percy froze.

“I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me. You don’t have to…”

“No, it’s fine. Fred… usually woke up before George, but he’d always wait until George was awake to actually get up.” Percy smiled sadly. “I know you feel guilty about his death, Draco. I do too. I keep wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t left. Whether he’d still be alive.”

Draco said nothing.

“That’s why I want to work in the shop with George, I think,” Percy continued. “To make up for lost time. I just wish I’d done it sooner. That, of course, and the fact that I couldn’t stand working in the Ministry any longer. I had to get out.”

Draco regarded him. “You shouldn’t blame yourself,” he said eventually.

“Neither should you,” Percy said. “We were both on the wrong side of the war for a time. I think… what matters is that we both switched sides in the end.” He sighed. “Look, I’m not one for sentiment, but what I mean to say is that you’re welcome here.”

Draco stared at him. “Thank you, Percy.”

Percy nodded. They both heard voices upstairs. “And there goes my peaceful morning,” Percy said, just as George and Arthur hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Arthur said to them both. “Sorry I can’t stay and chat, Draco. Duty calls.” He grabbed a lunch Molly had packed for him the previous night and disappeared into the Floo.

“You coming, Perce?” George called.

“What? Now?”

“Yeah. You still want to work for me, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then come on. I’m your boss now.”

Percy rolled his eyes at him. “I can already see you abusing your power,” he said. Nevertheless, he stood up and, with a final wave at Draco, used the Floo.

“See you later, Malfoy,” George said as he followed suit.

\---

A couple of days later, Bill sat down on the sofa next to Draco. “Mind if I have a word?”

Draco turned to him in surprise. “Not at all. Do you want to…” He gestured to the chaos around them.

Bill chuckled. “Don’t worry. They won’t pay any attention to us.” He still spoke in a low voice, just in case. “I just wanted to talk to you about how you were finding Defence Against the Dark Arts classes this year. I wanted to get some feedback, but everyone else here is either my family, so they’re unnecessarily mean to me, or they’re too nice to say anything negative.”

“And you thought I would be the least biased person here.”

“Yes.”

Draco frowned. “Why are you really talking to me?”

Bill grimaced. “I didn’t think you’d buy that. Honestly… my classes are focused on practical learning, and so they rely on participation. And I noticed that you weren’t participating in one of the recent classes. The one where we dealt with the Patronus charm.”

Draco sighed. “I was hoping no one would notice that.”

“Is there any reason you weren’t trying to cast it? I’m not going to judge you, I’m just asking so that I know how I might be able to help.” He frowned. “Are you worried you’re not worthy enough to cast it?”

Draco’s expression gave him away.

“Well then, if that’s how you feel about yourself, I don’t know if I’m the right person to help you,” Bill said. “In my opinion, you’re definitely worthy. You should hear how Ron talks about you when you’re not there. And trust me, my brother can hold a grudge. You must have done pretty well to have landed in his good books.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Really? I was under the impression that Ron only tolerated me because I was friends with Harry.”

“Are you serious?” Bill laughed softly. “Ron’s pretty awkward about being affectionate. I think you knew that already, though. In a way, he’s almost worse than Percy, since at least Percy can somewhat communicate through words. But yeah, Ron does love you. And so do Harry and Hermione. So you need to stop acting like a fourth wheel in your own friendship group.”

“I’m not…” Draco tried to protest, but Bill had already stood up and started talking to Fleur.

\---

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Charlie Weasley apparated outside the Burrow. Ginny was the first outside, immediately crushing her brother in a tight hug. Molly quickly followed, hugging Charlie before rushing him into the Burrow, asking him questions about his journey and his recent work with dragons.

Arthur was still at work, but the other Weasleys hugged him in turn as soon as he got through the door. Charlie shook Harry’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Harry.”

“You too, Charlie,” Harry grinned.

“And you, Hermione,” Charlie said, turning to her. “Ron keeps gushing about you in his letters.”

“I do not!” Ron protested, blushing.

Charlie turned to Draco and held out his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve properly met. I’m Charlie Weasley.”

“Draco.” He shook Charlie’s hand.

Charlie grinned at him. “Of course! Ron’s talked about you as well. It’s great to finally meet you, Draco.”

Charlie was whisked off, then, to answer countless questions about the past few months he’d spent in Romania. After a couple of hours, he found Draco again.

“So, Ron tells me you were a Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team.”

Draco nodded.

“I played Seeker too. I was actually Harry’s predecessor on the Gryffindor team. I actually first heard about you from Oliver Wood, if you remember him? I kept in touch with him after I left Hogwarts, and he’d often write complaining about the Slytherin team. He didn’t like you very much, but I think that’s just because you were as good as Harry.” Charlie winked at him.

“I haven’t played in a while,” Draco confessed. “I kind of miss it.”

“Funny you should say that, because we usually have a little game on Christmas Day,” Charlie said. “This year, actually, I think we have enough people for a full five-a-side match. Although we might have to make you a Beater, if you don’t mind. I’m not giving up my spot that easily, and I don’t think Harry will either.”

Draco nodded. “I don’t mind. It sounds like fun.”

So the next day, as Molly was in the kitchen making the Christmas dinner, the rest of the family and guests gathered outside the Burrow with their brooms. Even Percy and Hermione had been enlisted as slightly reluctant players. On Charlie’s team, Percy and Bill were Chasers, George was the Beater and Arthur was the Keeper. Ginny captained the opposing team with Hermione as the other Chaser, Ron as Keeper, Draco as Beater and Harry as Seeker. Fleur had volunteered to referee the game, since she couldn’t play. As soon as she released the balls, the players were off. Ginny immediately took possession of the Quaffle and dodged around Bill and Percy to throw it at one of the hoops Hermione had drawn in the air. Arthur just managed to reach out and block the ball, and Percy grabbed it from underneath, tossing it to Bill just before he was almost knocked off his broom by a Bludger that Draco had sent shooting towards him.

Harry nodded at Draco, impressed. “Nice job.”

Draco smirked. “I’d like to see you be decent at more than one position.”

“I don’t need to be. Being a better Seeker than you is enough,” Harry argued.

“You wish.”

“Hey, you two! Quit flirting and get back to work!” Ginny yelled at them in the middle of tackling Bill.

Ginny managed to get the Quaffle past Arthur several times, bringing her team into the lead. Hermione was happy to let Ginny take the lead. Meanwhile, Ron blocked most of the shots from Bill and Percy until George hit him in the chest with a Bludger. “I’m fine,” Ron wheezed from the ground, mounting his broom again rather giddily.

Meanwhile, Harry was watching out for the Snitch a little way apart from the action. The wind was cold at that height, but Harry didn’t mind at all. He’d missed being on a broom. Playing Quidditch. Being part of a Quidditch team was like being in a fight with other people, except no one died. Harry could fly as fast as he wanted knowing that the only danger to his teammates was the odd Bludger.

Charlie was also looking out for the Snitch on the other side. He spotted Harry looking at him and waved. Then his eyes went wide. “Watch out!” he shouted.

Harry turned to see a Bludger headed straight for him. He ducked and braced himself, but Draco flew between them and knocked the Bludger into the distance. “Merlin, Potter, what would you do without me,” Draco said smugly.

“Die, apparently,” Harry said, causing Draco to laugh. “We make a pretty good team, you know.”

“Harry!” Ron half whispered, half yelled. Harry saw him point towards the ground. There was a glint of reflected golden light. The Snitch.

Harry dove towards it, and Charlie did likewise. They followed it for a few hundred metres as it flew around the pitch, and they seemed to be neck and neck until Charlie faked right and rolled himself above Harry when he followed. Charlie used his last inch of stretch to catch the Snitch while he was flying upside down, which put his team in the lead by twenty points. He offered a handshake to Harry once they’d all landed. “Good game,” he said. “Wood taught you well. You’re a great Seeker.”

Ron was praising Hermione for scoring a goal for their team. “Smart _and_ athletic,” he said. “As if I couldn’t be any more attracted to you.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were pink. “Ginny set the whole thing up. I only had to throw the Quaffle in the right direction.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Ginny told her on her way past the couple. “You were brilliant. Much better than Percy, at least.”

“Hey!”

“No hard feelings, Harry,” George said as they went inside. “That was Charlie’s signature move. He only tried it with you because he knew the rest of us would expect it.”

\---

After a Christmas dinner that left everyone full and happy, everyone gathered in the living room to exchange gifts. Harry had helped Draco choose gifts for the Weasley family from Hogsmeade just before they left, and while Draco had wanted to spend hundreds of Galleons on the presents, Harry had assured him that the Weasleys would much prefer smaller and more heartfelt gifts.

Molly gasped as she unwrapped the little wire brooch in the shape of a peacock that Draco had bought for her. “Oh, Draco, you really shouldn’t have.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Draco replied.

She smiled warmly at him. “Bless you, darling. And it’s a peacock, just like the ones your family own! Isn’t that lovely! Now I’ll have something to remind me of you when you go back.”

Harry received a rubber duck with a top hat from Arthur, a dragon scale on a silver chain from Charlie, a recipe book from Percy, a music box that played _The Blue Danube_ from Bill and Fleur, a trick wand from George, a mock Holyhead Harpies Quidditch jersey from Ginny, and a bag of homemade fudge from Ron and Hermione. Draco gifted him a new pair of sneakers. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the holes in your old pair,” Draco explained.

As always, Molly had knitted them all jumpers and Harry pulled his on gratefully. Draco stared at his own jumper, which was orange with a large red ‘D’ on the front. “I wasn’t sure what your favourite colour was, so I just guessed,” Molly said. “Do you like it?”

Draco beamed at her with tears in his eyes. “I love it,” he replied. “You didn’t have to get me anything, let alone make me something.”

“Nonsense. You’re part of the family now, so you get a jumper. Harry’s been getting them since his first year, haven’t you Harry?”

“Now, although your hair isn’t ginger, your fashion sense can be,” George joked. Draco glared at him.

\---

Ron found Draco a while later outside, still wearing the orange jumper. “You know, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to,” Draco said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno, because it’s not what you normally wear?”

“That’s what makes it so nice. I’ve never had anything like it before.”

Ron sat down next to him. “What do you normally get for Christmas?”

“Designer clothes, a new watch, a new broomstick, that kind of thing,” Draco replied. “All money and no sentiment.”

They watched the overcast sky. There was snow forecast for just after sunset.

“I used to wish I had a sibling,” Draco said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“They’re not all they’re cracked up to be,” Ron said. “It’s always loud, and you get forgotten sometimes.”

“I think it’s lovely. My home was often too quiet. And I wouldn’t mind being ignored from time to time.”

Ron smiled sadly at him. “Well… Mum was right, earlier. Consider yourself an honorary Weasley.”

“Thank you, Ron. That means a lot.”

Ron blinked in surprise at being called by his first name but didn’t say anything else.

“Have you told Granger yet?”

Ron sighed. “I will, I’m just waiting for the right time.”

“I think any time is the right time, as long as you mean it.”

“I know. And I do. I dunno why it’s so hard for me.”

“Honestly? Me neither.”

“Hey!” Ron shoved Draco lightly. “And you’re one to give me relationship advice, when you can’t even muster up the courage to ask Harry out.”

Draco froze. “What are you talking about?” he said cautiously.

“Come on, mate. I may be slow sometimes but I’m not _that_ slow. I see the way you look at him.” Seeing Draco’s embarrassment, Ron smiled fondly at him. “It’s okay. We could go on double dates.”

“That’s assuming he likes me back,” Draco said mournfully.

“He hasn’t shut up about you since first year, I think that counts for something,” Ron said before standing up. “It’s too cold out here. Mum’s making hot chocolate if you want some.”

“Yes, please.”

\---

Harry bumped into Draco on his way out of the bedroom. Draco frowned down at the warm apparel he was wearing. “Going somewhere?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s late.”

“I know. I didn’t want to have to explain myself to anyone, but…” he shrugged, “here we are.”

“Where are you going?”

Harry gave Draco a sheepish smile. “To see my parents.”

“Oh.”

An idea popped into Harry’s head. It was a terrible idea, and he had no clue where it had come from, but he decided to go with it. “Would you like to come?”

Draco looked very much like a deer caught in the headlights. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Harry nodded.

Draco stared at him curiously for a moment. “Okay,” he said eventually. “Let me get my coat.”

Once outside the Burrow, Harry held out his hand towards Draco. Draco took it and they apparated. Once they arrived at Godric’s Hollow, Harry led Draco to the churchyard. Less houses were boarded up than when Harry had come with Hermione last Christmas, but it was late enough that there was no one else on the streets. A light dusting of snow covered the ground. “I came here with Hermione this time last year,” Harry explained. “I wanted to spend a bit of Christmas Day with them again.”

They came to a stop in front of his parents’ gravestone. “Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad,” Harry said, his voice suddenly hoarse. He suddenly realised that he was still holding Draco’s hand. “Um, this is Draco. He’s a friend of mine. He’s a Slytherin, but that doesn’t mean he’s bad. Well, actually, he did use to make fun of me, just like you two used to tease each other.” He felt Draco’s gaze on him, and his face grew hot.

Harry started rambling to them about what had happened in the past year: finding the Horcruxes, the battle, how their final year at Hogwarts was going so far. All the while, Draco watched silently, giving Harry’s hand momentary squeezes in reassurance.

“I miss all of them,” Harry confessed. “And I feel guilty because I should have died too. Because I’m still here when so many others who didn’t deserve what they got aren’t. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve to be alive, and then I feel even more guilty because you two didn’t sacrifice yourselves for me to be feeling this way.” Harry wiped his cheeks with his free hand. “If you see them, any of them… wherever you are… can you give them my love? And tell them that I’m sorry?”

As they left the churchyard, with Harry’s chest feeling infinitely lighter, he gave Draco a soggy smile. “Thank you. For coming here with me. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to turn into a such a mess.”

Draco gave Harry’s hand one more squeeze. “Don’t apologise. You’ve seen me cry before, it’s about time you returned the favour.” Harry chuckled.

They apparated back to the Burrow. “Thank you for introducing me to your parents, Potter,” Draco continued. “And for trusting me enough to hear… everything you said.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me by my last name?” Harry asked.

“Probably not, no,” Draco replied. He stopped just outside the door. “Just so you know… you do deserve to be alive. Fred, and Lupin, and Sirius, and the others, of course they didn’t deserve to die, but that doesn’t mean that you should have taken their place. You still have a lot to live for. Not least to annoy me incessantly.” Harry snorted. “Would you like some tea?” Draco asked as they entered the Burrow.

“No, thanks.”

“I have Firewhiskey upstairs, if it’s that kind of night.”

Harry laughed again. “On second thoughts, I’ll take that cup of tea.”

\---

Ginny was the next out of the Weasley children to corner Draco in private. Her message to him was brief. “Don’t hurt him.”

Draco blinked. In all honesty, he was ever so slightly scared of the youngest Weasley sibling. Not that he let anyone know that, of course. “What?”

“Harry. Don’t hurt him. Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you or anything…”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

“But… if you break his heart our entire family will come for you.”

Draco had seen what the Weasleys had done to the Death-Eaters. He didn’t want to end up on the other end of that. “Understood. But why do you think I’d do that anyway? We’re not dating.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I saw you two on your way back from your little date the other night.”

“What… that wasn’t a date. He was taking me to meet his parents.” Draco suddenly realised just how that sounded.

“There’s definitely something going on between you two, even if Harry doesn’t realise it. Which is highly probable; that boy is oblivious to everything, including his own love life.” Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “My warning still stands.”

\---

The night before they were all due to go back, Draco sat alone at the table, nursing a mug of tea. He heard someone come downstairs behind him, and sure enough George appeared in the kitchen. “Is the kettle still hot?” he asked, eyeing Draco’s tea.

“I boiled it about two minutes ago. Would you like some tea?”

“Nah, I’m more of a coffee person.” George spooned some instant coffee granules – Harry’s Christmas gift to Arthur, who had seemed absolutely mesmerised by the idea of instant coffee – into a mug and added hot water. He leaned against the counter. “Hope we haven’t completely discouraged you from ever coming here again,” he said.

“Not at all. You’ve all been very welcoming to me…” Draco meant to continue the sentence but decided better of it.

“… Considering the fact that you were a Death-Eater?” George finished.

Draco nodded. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.

George pulled out the chair opposite Draco and sat down. “You know, when I first heard you were coming here for Christmas, I wasn’t too happy.”

“I can imagine.”

“But then I remembered seeing you at Freddie’s funeral.”

“Did everyone know I was there? I was trying to be discreet,” Draco sighed.

“Mum and Dad don’t know,” George said. “Anyway, that’s not what someone who doesn’t have any remorse would do. Unless you came to gloat, of course, but that seems out of order even for you.” He sipped his coffee. And pulled a face. “I can’t understand how Dad finds this so amazing. Ugh, that’s it. I’m going back to my efforts to adapt _Aguamenti_ for coffee.” He pulled out his wand and floated the mug to the sink before tipping the coffee out. “Anyway… Fred had this theory, you know, that if the Sorting Hat had actually seen us as two different people, and also not just as Bill, Charlie, and Percy’s brothers, he would’ve been put in Slytherin. It wouldn’t have made things any different, hey, Mum might’ve been able to tell us apart more easily. If anything, it would’ve expanded our reach for our pranks. Anyway, I wasn’t sure about his theory until recently. Because what I find weird is that everyone’s saying ‘Fred wouldn’t want this’ or ‘Fred would forgive everyone’, but… I think that if it had been the other way round… Fred would’ve wanted revenge. And he would’ve ended up doing something rash and stupid to kill him or land him in Azkaban.” George sighed tiredly. “I don’t want revenge. I just want the pain to go away. And that’s not going to happen by hurting anyone else.”

Draco didn’t say anything, for fear of starting to cry. George was already swiping at his eyes.

“So, what I mean to say is… if you were worried about me not forgiving you, I never blamed you in the first place. And you’re welcome here any time.” George smiled weakly at him.

“Thank you,” Draco said. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve deserved how nice you’ve all been to me.”

“I disagree. Mum was right when you first arrived. A friend of Ron’s is family to us. And if not Ron, then I trust Harry’s and Hermione’s judgement. And if not _that_ , then I trust someone who can take on a Bludger as well as you did on Christmas Day.”

\---

Harry came into the dormitory one evening, shortly after the start of term, to find Draco sitting on Dean’s bed with his left arm outstretched towards Dean.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Dean’s drawing on my arm,” Draco said.

Harry was rather surprised. Dean and Draco had never seemed particularly close, even after they all started sharing a room. “Why?” he asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him, as if the answer was obvious. It eventually hit Harry as he drew closer to the pair: Dean was drawing over Draco’s Dark Mark with Sharpies in various colours.

“I got the pens for Christmas,” Dean explained. “They’re permanent, so they should last at least a few weeks on your skin. Hopefully.”

Harry looked at Draco’s arm. The Dark Mark was almost unrecognisable, having been covered in colourful flowers and leaves. He found himself smiling as he noticed a stag near the inside of Draco’s elbow. “It’s beautiful, Dean,” he said.

“Thanks. Seamus doesn’t let me draw on him anymore, so it’s nice to have… a different canvas, so to speak.”

Once Dean had finished and disappeared to find Seamus, Harry frowned at Draco. “You know, there’s a tattoo artist in Hogsmeade.”

“I don’t like needles,” Draco said.

“I could take you. Hold your hand.”

Draco was staring at him curiously again. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally.

\---

“We’re going to tackle the Patronus charm again today, everyone,” Bill announced. “Since about half of you got the hang of it last term, you’re going to be working in pairs. Everyone who was able to cast a Patronus, corporeal or not, move to the right of the room, and everyone who hasn’t achieved it yet, on the other side.” There was a commotion as the students sorted themselves out. Bill had decided to combine the seventh and eighth years into one class after Christmas, since they had all caught up on the material and were to be taking the same N.E.W.T.s., so the classroom was particularly busy. “Now, get into pairs, with one person from each side of the room,” Bill said.

Harry scanned the students on the other side of the room. Ron had already started talking to Blaise, and Ginny made straight for a Hufflepuff girl in her year. He eventually spotted Draco, who was staring at him pleadingly. He sighed and crossed the room towards him. “Why are you over here? You know you can cast a Patronus.” Bill was instructing the students to help each other cast or strengthen their Patronuses.

“I was hoping you’d join me,” Draco said. “Do you want to sneak out?”

“What? No!” Harry exclaimed. “Draco, why don’t you want to cast a Patronus?”

Draco looked at his feet and said nothing.

“Are you worried about not being worthy again?” Harry asked.

Draco’s continued silence gave him the answer.

“Draco…”

“Well, you don’t just come back from being a dark wizard and suddenly everything’s as it was,” Draco said.

“There were dark wizards who could still produce Patronuses,” Harry argued. “Snape could. Even Umbridge could.”

“Umbridge?” Draco’s eyes were wide.

“Yeah. Her Patronus is a cat, believe it or not.”

“You’re kidding. The same as McGonagall?”

“I’m completely serious.”

Draco laughed. “If she can cast a Patronus…”

“Exactly. Anyone can.”

Draco fixed him with a level stare. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I try, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” he sighed. Harry watched as he raised his wand. “ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” Draco said. A soft white light started to glow from his wand, diffusing off in little wisps, like clouds.

Harry smiled proudly. “I knew you could still do it,” he said. He noticed Bill looking at them with a pleased expression. “Do you want to try and produce a corporeal one?”

Draco blinked. “No,” he said.

“Really? Why not? You could do it in fifth year.”

“I just… don’t want to try yet.”

Harry frowned but didn’t press any further. “Okay. Well then, do the exact same thing again, but focus it… at that chandelier, there.” He pointed at the old chandelier hanging from the high ceiling of the classroom.

By the time Bill had dismissed the class, almost everyone could produce at least an incorporeal Patronus. Bill congratulated them on their progress as they left.

“Why don’t you want to cast a corporeal Patronus?” Harry asked. “You know you can do it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Draco muttered.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked as he and Hermione caught up with them.

“Draco doesn’t want to produce his corporeal Patronus in class,” Harry said. “Do you want to try outside class? I can help you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Potter!” Draco exclaimed. “Merlin, you can be so obnoxious sometimes!”

“Okay, okay.” Harry backed off. “I’m sorry.”

Draco didn’t speak much for the rest of the day. Harry felt oddly restless as he and his roommates got ready for bed, and shortly after the lights were out, he slipped out of the dormitory and watched the stars from the common room’s window seat. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice anyone else in the room until a mug of tea was held out in front of him. He blinked up at Draco. “Thanks,” he said, accepting the mug and moving his legs to make enough space for Draco to sit down opposite him.

“Consider it a peace offering,” Draco said. “I’d like to apologise for shouting at you earlier.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Harry replied. “I’m sorry too. For pushing you to talk about something you obviously didn’t want to talk about.”

Draco nodded. “I’m just… working through some things right now, I guess.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to talk to…” Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Right. Sorry.”

Draco chuckled. “Golden Boy Potter. Still always trying to save people,” he said.

“Hermione thinks I do it to distract myself from my own problems,” Harry said.

“I think she’s right.”

“Hey!”

They watched the sky for a while. Harry sipped his tea.

“What are you thinking about?” Draco asked eventually.

“Are you worried about the future?” Harry asked in response.

Draco thought for a moment. “I think, given that we’ve survived a war, we can survive adulthood.”

“I mean… my whole life led up to the Battle of Hogwarts last year. Part of me was expecting me to die then, preferably taking Voldemort with me. But I’m still here. What do I do with this extra part of my life that I’ve been handed?”

“You live it.”

Harry frowned at Draco. “You’re not being very helpful.”

“I’m well aware. I’m not going to tell you what to do, Potter. You have to figure that out by yourself. Just… start with what you enjoy.”

“Okay. I enjoy Quidditch. I enjoy treacle tart. Um… I enjoyed leading the D.A. and…” Harry realised what a sad life he’d led, if he only had two hobbies and one favourite food. “I enjoy our late-night talks,” he added.

“Well,” Draco said. Harry noticed that his cheeks had turned slightly pink. “You could do something to do with those. Maybe not the last one, though. I’d like to have a something of a life of my own.”

“Charming.” Harry took another sip of his tea. “What do you want to do, then? You could do anything really, you’re almost as smart as Hermione.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Draco said. “I’m not sure. I can afford not to work, but I’d need something else to occupy my time. I have the luxury of not having to decide any time soon, I guess.”

“What about starting a family?”

Draco almost choked on his tea. “Is this a proposal, Potter?”

“Be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious.”

“Ha ha. Just answer the question.”

Draco thought about it for a moment. “My parents expect me to carry on the bloodline, so I’ll probably marry and have children at some point. My greatest worry would be that I’d end up a terrible father.” He grimaced. “My family’s views of blood superiority… I don’t want to teach that to my children. I don’t want them to end up like me.”

“You’re fine now,” Harry reasoned.

“And it took becoming a bloody Death-Eater to get there.”

Harry nudged Draco’s leg with his foot. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a great father. And I’m worried about the same thing. I want to help Andromeda look after Teddy. Sirius could never do that with me, so I want to take that opportunity. But… I never knew my parents, so I don’t really know how to be one myself. I just want my future kids to grow up feeling loved.”

Draco smiled sadly at him. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sure they will. And Teddy. I just hope they don’t end up riding on the back of your fame.”

“Hey!”

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something else, but closed it and instead slid off the window seat. “I’m going to bed. We have that Transfiguration practical tomorrow, remember?”

Harry groaned. “I completely forgot. McGonagall’s going to have my head.”

“You do realise that N.E.W.T.s are fast approaching, right?”

“You’re just as bad as Hermione,” Harry said.

“Again, I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

\---

“Some of you will remember that in your sixth year I showed you Amortentia,” Professor Slughorn said at the start of Potions class, just before the end of term. “And today, we’ll be making it. This is one of the potions you’ll have to make for your N.E.W.T. by the way, so pay good attention.” He began with a demonstration, and Harry scribbled down as many notes as he could. Hermione’s stress about exam season was beginning to rub off on him. Although he thought that saving the Wizarding world would be enough to secure him a job in the future, he still had to pass his N.E.W.T.s. And with how many classes he had missed over the years, that was looking like a task even more difficult that defeating Voldemort.

After the demonstration, Slughorn sent them off to work in pairs to prepare their own batch of Amortentia. Harry immediately looked at Draco pleadingly. Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “But I hope you’re not just using me for my vast knowledge and skill.”

“Whatever do you mean? I just enjoy your company,” Harry said with a grin.

They worked together rather well, with Harry preparing the ingredients under Draco’s guidance and Draco manning the cauldron. “For goodness’ sake, Ronald, do you not know the difference between clockwise and anticlockwise?” Harry heard Hermione sigh from the other side of the table.

“Well if you think you can do any better, go ahead,” Ron said.

“Fine. I will.” Hermione pushed Ron out of the way so that she could take over stirring the cauldron. Ron looked over at Harry like he usually did. Harry could hear him saying _Can you believe her?_ In his head. Some things would never change.

“Potter. Pay attention. I need the fairy wing,” Draco said.

It turned out that their Amortentia was among the best in the class, and Slughorn gathered the students around the cauldron to take turns smelling it. “Harry, my boy, why don’t you go first and tell us what you smell?” Slughorn said.

Harry leaned over the cauldron and breathed in through his nose. He remembered what the Amortentia had smelled like in sixth year, and he was surprised to find that the smell was slightly different. “I smell treacle tart, a broomstick handle…” At least those were the same. But the flowery smell was no longer there. That made sense, Harry realised, since he was no longer in love with Ginny. The smell that had replaced it was familiar, earthy and warm. “And… tea,” he said, finally recognising the smell.

“Very good, Harry! Very good indeed!” Slughorn said with a smile. “Now, who’s next?”

Harry stepped back and turned towards Draco. He was staring at him with a very odd expression. “What? What is it?” Harry asked.

Draco blinked. He looked like he was about to say something, then turned away. “Nothing.”

\---

Most of the eighth years decided to remain at Hogwarts over the Easter break in order to study for their N.E.W.T.s. Hermione started spending all day in the library, only leaving to be dragged to meals by Ron. Soon enough, though, Ron joined her at the library, along with Harry and Draco. And then Neville found out that Harry was having trouble with his Herbology revision and joined the group, followed shortly by Seamus and Dean, and then Luna and Ginny, who had also decided to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. Even some of the other eighth years joined them occasionally.

Harry didn’t want to admit to anyone that he was worried. He was the Chosen One, he had defeated one of the most powerful dark wizards in history. How could he not pass all his exams? Besides, Hermione was already panicking about both her own and Ron’s exams, she didn’t need to worry about tutoring him as well.

He was alone in the library late one night; Neville, Luna, and Hermione had all gone to bed. He promised he would follow them as soon as he had finished reading over his notes about Knotgrass. But here he was, two hours later, and barely able to keep his eyes open long enough to finish the paragraph about the historic uses of the plant.

“Potter? Why on earth are you still here?”

Bleary-eyed, Harry looked up at Draco. “Studying,” he said.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not going to get much studying done in that state,” he said. He looked over Harry’s shoulder at his notes. “Especially since you’ve just spelled ‘Polyjuice’ with two ‘I’s.

“What?” Harry quickly scanned his notes for the offending word and scribbled it out.

Draco sat down next to him. Just his presence next to him seemed to make Harry able to breathe a little better. “I noticed you weren’t at dinner, so I snuck some food out. They had treacle tart.” He placed a couple of tissue-wrapped objects on the table.

Harry gasped and unwrapped one of the packages. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was. “Thank you,” he said through a mouthful of food. “You’re a life saver.”

“It would be a shame if the Boy Who Lived died of starvation,” Draco said. “Slow down, you’re going to choke. And drink this.” He pointed his wand at the table and a mug of tea appeared. The warm smell calmed Harry down even more.

Once he had finished the tea and the food, Draco stood up. “Come on, then. You’re not going to make any significant progress tonight. You’re better off sleeping, or else you’ll be even more unbearable than usual.” He held out his hand to help Harry up.

Harry rolled his eyes but took Draco’s hand, and they walked back to the dormitory together.

\---

The N.E.W.T.s were ghastly. Harry had never been so afraid of failure before, and the fact that most of the exams were long and difficult didn’t help that. The only one he remotely enjoyed was Defence Against the Dark Arts, where most of the examination was in the format of a simulated duel. Harry knew how to duel. And his assigned partner was Ginny, who gave Harry a run for his money. Bill commented that their duel was one of the best he’d seen in his teaching experience.

It was a long and stressful wait until they all received their results. Hermione was almost insufferable. Harry and Ron tried to reassure her, saying truthfully that she was going to have the highest grades in the entire year, but she wouldn’t listen. Draco was similarly unbearable, but at least he was quieter about his worries. His stress did radiate off him, though, like an aura that drained energy from the whole room.

When the results were released, Harry was shocked to have received an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ in all of his N.E.W.T.s apart from Defence Against the Dark Arts, where he received an ‘Outstanding’. Hermione, of course, had received all ‘Outstanding’s, and Molly Weasley had wasted no time in sending Ron and Ginny Howlers telling them how proud she was for their own good grades. Ron turned pink as the letter started singing his praises in the middle of the Great Hall.

That wasn’t the only event to celebrate. Caught up in the happiness and relief, Ron had blurted out to Hermione that he loved her. But Hermione had simply rolled her eyes fondly and exclaimed “About time!” before yanking him into a kiss. Harry suspected that she was too pleased with her results to be angry.

The day was so filled with celebration that Harry didn’t get a moment to himself. Then, just as the eighth years were about to go to Hogsmeade, Ginny ran up to them. “Harry!” she called. “Bill wants to see you.”

Harry blinked. “Really? What about?”

“I don’t know. Just go and see him. I’m sure the Three Broomsticks can wait.”

So Harry left his friends and made his way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Bill was waiting for him outside his office. “Harry. Ginny found you, then?”

“She did,” Harry replied as they entered the office. Bill sat down at his desk and motioned for Harry to sit opposite him.

“I’m sorry for taking you away from celebrating with your friends,” Bill said, “but I wanted to discuss something with you. I hope your other exams went well?”

“Yes, they did,” Harry said. “Thank you for the ‘Outstanding’ by the way.”

“No problem. You definitely deserved it. You’re a very powerful wizard, Harry. But more than that, you’re a very merciful one. There aren’t many wizards who have both of those qualities. Anyway, down to business. I’ve been invited to Italy on a year-long research trip. There’s magic there that’s almost as old as what I was investigating in Egypt, and they want me to help them discover its origins. But it means that I won’t be able to carry on teaching here.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “What about Fleur and Victoire?” Fleur had had her baby over the exam period, on the anniversary of the battle of Hogwarts, no less.

“Fleur’s actually quite excited about seeing Italy. And, as I said, the trip is only for a year. I don’t think my parents will miss us too much.”

“But why are you telling me this?” Harry asked.

Bill leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me, Harry. Have you given much thought to your career plans?”

“Not really,” Harry replied. “I originally wanted to be an Auror, but I’m not sure now.”

Bill hummed. “I think you may have done enough fighting evil to last a lifetime.”

“You can say that again.”

“Have you ever considered teaching?”

Harry blinked. “Not really, no.” Then he realised why Bill had called him here. “Bill, are you thinking of giving me your job?”

“I can’t exactly _give_ you my job,” Bill laughed. “But I can certainly provide a strong recommendation to McGonagall if you happen to apply for it. I thought teaching would suit you, you see. I heard all about Dumbledore’s Army from Ron, Ginny, and the twins. Without you, I don’t think I would’ve had half the success teaching the Patronus charm as I did. Just… have a think about it, okay?”

Harry nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

\---

Harry relayed the conversation back to Hermione, Draco, and a snoozing Ron when they returned from the Three Broomsticks more than a little tipsy.

“That’s great, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. She was lying horizontally on the sofa with her head in Ron’s lap and her feet in Draco’s. “You should do it.”

“It’d suit you much more than being a fucking Auror,” Draco mumbled. Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard Draco swear before. “That was the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, and the bar for that is high.”

“Also, McGonagall would definitely accept you if you applied.” She giggled. “Imagine having the Chosen One himself teach you Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“We technically did have the Chosen One teach us, Hermione,” Draco said. “In fifth year, remember?”

Hermione sat up and stared at him. “You just called me Hermione.” A smile started to grow on her face.

“I did not.”

“You did too! I heard it!” Hermione turned to Harry. “You heard it too, right?”

“You did call her Hermione,” Harry said.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you,” Draco said. “It’s not going to happen again.”

But Hermione was grinning at him smugly. “You still act so tough, but I know deep down you’re a big softie.”

Draco rolled his eyes, clearly mortified but trying not to show it. “I think you need to go to bed.”

“Maybe.” Hermione rolled off the sofa and almost landed on top of Harry. “Maybe I’ll apply to the Ministry tonight.”

“Don’t do that,” Harry said.

“Maybe I will! You can’t stop me!”

As soon as Hermione had disappeared up the stairs, Harry and Draco looked at each other and immediately burst out laughing. “How hungover is she going to be tomorrow?” Harry exclaimed.

“The better question is: is she going to remember any of this or are we going to have to mortify her by reminding her?” Draco asked.

“So how did you do on your N.E.W.T.s? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“All ‘Outstanding’s apart from an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ in Transfiguration,” Draco replied. “I was a little disappointed that I didn’t beat Granger.”

“That’s still brilliant, though,” Harry said. “It’s a wonder you weren’t sorted into Ravenclaw.”

Draco snorted. “Imagine me in Ravenclaw,” he said. “I think my father would’ve disowned me.” The smile slipped from his face.

Harry quickly stood up. “Should we help Ron to bed?” he asked, gesturing towards Ron, who was still out cold on the sofa.

“He’d better not vomit in the morning,” Draco said, shuffling over and placing one of Ron’s arms around his shoulders. Harry did likewise once Draco had stood up with him. Ron mumbled something unintelligible but remained otherwise unconscious.

After they’d struggled up the stairs and dropped Ron onto his bed, trying as hard as possible not to disturb their other roommates, Harry turned to Draco. “I think I’m going to stay up for a bit,” he whispered.

“Me too. I’m not that tired yet,” Draco replied.

They crept back out of the dormitory and into the common room. “Do you want to go for a walk?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

It was dark outside, but the early summertime air was warm and fresh. They wandered up to the rebuilt Quidditch pitch, talking about everything and nothing: how difficult the exams had been, their plans for the summer, who they thought was going to marry who.

“Thomas and Finnigan, obviously,” Draco said.

“What?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you not noticed? Merlin, Potter, I knew you were oblivious but I didn’t expect you to be this stupid. They are literally dating!”

Harry thought back over the year. Dean and Seamus were best friends, so they were naturally inseparable. He had just assumed that the fond looks and lingering touches between them were indicative of their closeness as friends. “I really am stupid,” he sighed.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Harry laughed. He enjoyed this. The familiarity of their friendly banter. He didn’t feel the need to be anything other than himself around Draco. Maybe it was because they’d both seen each other at their absolute worsts – Merlin, they’d _contributed_ to each other’s absolute worsts – and they were still friends. Maybe it was because Draco was still unafraid to be brutally honest with him. Harry didn’t have to worry about disappointing Draco, and that thought somehow removed most of his anxiety. He turned to say something to him but was suddenly struck silent. The moon was particularly bright, and its light scattered off Draco’s silvery-blond hair, almost creating a halo around his head. His eyes were somewhat hidden in shadow, but the rest of his pale face was illuminated, all the way down to the top of his neck, where Harry could just about see the tips of Draco’s _Sectumsempra_ scars as they disappeared underneath his collar. He turned to look up at the Quidditch stalls, showing off his side profile.

Harry knew that Draco was attractive. He’d heard it from several of his classmates, and he agreed with them. From an objective viewpoint, Draco was very attractive. But this Draco wasn’t just attractive. This one, sitting on the grass of the Quidditch field next to him, slowly sobering up; this Draco, who had opened himself up to Harry and let Harry do the same to him, who was surprisingly easy to talk to, who was determined to prove that he wasn’t a product of his bloodline… this Draco was _beautiful_.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Draco finally noticed Harry staring at him. “What is it?”

“Tea,” Harry blurted out.

“What?”

Harry’s mouth was dry. “Why do you make tea all the time?”

Draco blinked, clearly surprised by the question. “I’m not sure. I think it’s just become my way of… helping people. I’m not very good with words, as you probably know. I’m more likely to end up accidentally insulting someone than calm them down. And physical affection isn’t my strong point, either. Again, you’re probably aware of that. So I just… make people tea? When I feel like they need it?” He chuckled. “It sounds ridiculous now that I’m explaining it. But I still want to prove that I care about people, you know?”

“I don’t think it sounds ridiculous at all,” Harry said. “I’m only asking because… remember I smelled tea in the Amortentia?”

Draco’s gaze snapped to Harry’s. “Yes?” he said carefully.

“Well, I originally thought that it was just because I like tea. It calms me down, you know?”

Draco nodded silently. The same curious look Harry recognised from Potions, and before that, in the Burrow, was back on his face.

“But then I realised that I never make tea myself. And I started thinking, maybe it’s not the _tea_ that calms me down…”

“Potter…” Draco murmured.

“I think it’s you who does that,” Harry continued, trying not to stumble over his words in his nervousness. “And I subconsciously started associating tea with you…”

“Potter,” Draco said, more loudly.

“… so when I smelled tea in the Amortentia, I really smelled… you. And I don’t really know why I’m telling you this, because it could completely ruin our friendship, but I’m a Gryffindor, aren’t I…?”

“ _Potter_.”

“… And, well, I actually realised all this just now, which is why I’m rambling, I haven’t thought at all about what I’m saying right now, but what I mean to say is…”

“ _Harry_!”

That shut Harry up.

Draco was staring at him with a nervous yet hopeful expression. He took his wand out of his pocket and, hand shaking, waved it in a circle. “ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” he said softly. Cool light burst out of the tip of his wand, and Draco’s Patronus materialised in the moonlight. Except it wasn’t a ferret.

“It’s different,” Harry said.

“It’s _yours_ ,” Draco corrected.

Harry watched the stag wander peacefully around the pitch in shock. “How long have you known?” he whispered eventually.

“Last year,” Draco said, keeping his eyes on the stag. “Shortly before you were brought to Malfoy Manor, actually. That’s why I didn’t tell Bellatrix that it was you when you arrived. I wanted to see if… I was still worthy. I was expecting the worst. But at that time, I didn’t care about the consequences. So one night, in my bedroom, I cast it. And that was when I knew that either way, I was well and truly fucked.”

“So all that time, you were just pretending you were scared of casting it?”

“Oh, I _was_ scared of casting it,” Draco said. “But for a different reason.”

“You shouldn’t have been scared.”

“Really? Didn’t you just say you hadn’t realised your… feelings for me until just now?”

“Well, it may have helped me do that faster. Even if it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have reacted badly.”

Draco hummed. Suddenly, he started laughing. His Patronus faded out because of his lost concentration.

Harry frowned. “What?”

“Just something Ginny told me, at Christmas. You’re so oblivious to everyone’s love lives, including your own,” Draco giggled.

“Hey!” He wasn’t wrong, though. Eventually, Draco’s laughs faded into a pregnant silence. At least now Harry was aware of what was bound to happen next. “So… what does this mean for us?”

Draco turned to him. “What do you want it to mean?”

Harry inched closer to him. “I think it’s quite obvious.”

“Yeah?” Draco was very slowly leaning towards him.

“Yeah.” Harry’s gaze darted down to Draco’s slightly parted lips. “Can I…?”

Draco nodded. Harry closed the distance between them. And this… this was a very different kiss to any Harry had had before. This wasn’t the start of a juvenile romance like his kiss with Cho, or two vulnerable kids finding comfort in each other like his kiss with Ginny. This was years of friendship and heartbreak and tension finally coming to a climax. It was like a great wave finally breaking and washing over them. Draco kissed more gently than Harry expected, almost tentatively, with one hand coming up to slide through Harry’s now long hair. This was tenderness. This was _love_.

And Harry made that clear as soon as they broke apart for air, their faces still merely inches apart. He stared deep into Draco’s grey eyes. “I love you,” he said with his entire soul backing it.

He heard Draco’s breath hitch in surprise. And then Draco smiled. “I love you too, Potter.”

Harry half laughed, half sighed, and leaned into Draco’s shoulder. “You’re really never going to stop calling me that, are you?”

“You like it,” Draco said. Harry could hear the glee in his voice.

“Maybe I do,” he said truthfully. He felt Draco laugh again. “It’s not that funny.”

“No, I just realised that you have a type.”

Harry sat up, frowning at him. “What? I do _not_.”

“You do! You have a type, and that type is Seekers.”

Harry blushed. “No! No, that’s not true!”

Draco started counting on his fingers. “I was Seeker for Slytherin. Cho was seeker for Ravenclaw. Ginny was substitute Seeker for a period, wasn’t she? Oh yes, and Cedric was Hufflepuff Seeker-”

“I didn’t kiss Cedric!” Harry exclaimed.

“You don’t need to kiss someone to have a crush on them,” Draco said.

“I did _not_ have a crush on him!” Draco raised an eyebrow, leaving Harry to think for a moment. Suddenly, Harry gasped and flopped onto his back. “Oh my god, I did have a crush on him.”

“We’re realising a lot of things about ourselves tonight, aren’t we, Potter?”

“Shut up.”

They lay in silence for a few minutes. Harry’s hand found Draco’s between them and took it. Draco squeezed his hand lightly.

“What about your parents?” Harry asked eventually.

Draco didn’t reply for a moment. “They won’t be happy, obviously, since the bloodline will end with me. But I don’t mind that. This is what I want, so.”

Harry smiled warmly at him. “Me too. Hey, move into 12 Grimmauld Place with me?”

“Don’t you think asking me to move in with you is skipping a few steps? You haven’t even asked me on a date yet.”

Harry sighed. “Fine. Will you go on a date with me?”

Draco pretended to think it over. “It depends. Where do you want to take me?”

“12 Grimmauld Place.”

Draco laughed. “Fine. You win. I’ll move in with you.”

Harry gasped suddenly. “Remember that article that Rita Skeeter wrote about us in fourth year? Just after the Yule Ball?”

Draco’s eyes went wide. “About our alleged forbidden romance?”

They burst out laughing. “I can’t believe it!” Harry exclaimed between giggles. “She was actually right! It took a few years, but she was right!”

“Do you want to know something?” Draco asked once they’d calmed down. “My memory, that I use to cast my Patronus? It’s our dance at the Yule Ball.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m totally serious. It was one of the few moments of my life back then where I was completely happy.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. The fact that _he_ was part of that memory. He stood up and offered Draco a hand. “In that case… Draco Malfoy, may I have this dance?”

“That’s so cheesy,” Draco said. “And there isn’t any music.”

“Do we need music?”

“That’s even more cheesy,” Draco sighed, but nevertheless he took Harry’s hand. They ended up waltzing messily around the Quidditch pitch by the light of the moon. “You’re just as bad at dancing as you were back then,” Draco laughed.

“Shut up, I’m trying.” Harry buried his head in Draco’s shoulder, ignoring his comment that that wasn’t helping the dance. There was still a lot to worry about, of course. The future, applying for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, renovating 12 Grimmauld Place, looking after Teddy, maybe even starting a family of their own. But that could all wait. Right now, Harry was content with focusing on dancing clumsily through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just the epilogue to go now!! yay!! 
> 
> i just love the idea of draco's love language just being *tea* bc lmao same


	8. Eighteen Years Later

“Teddy Lupin, come here right this second or I swear-”

Teddy apparated in front of Harry with a grin. “Yes?”

Harry jumped and glared at him. “You are going to give me a heart attack at this rate. Come on, help us with the bags.”

Teddy reluctantly followed Harry to the front room, where Draco was already panicking about forgetting things. “James, have you definitely got your Herbology textbook? I didn’t see it in the trunk.” Draco had aged well, just like his father had. However, his eyes had grown ever kinder as he and Harry had taken Teddy into their care almost full-time, and then adopted James, and after that adopted Scorpius. He had kept his silvery hair short but attempted to grow a beard, and Harry was never quite sure whether he liked the attempt or hated it. He was wearing a casual shirt with his sleeves rolled up, revealing the large, detailed tattoo he’d had put on his left forearm over a decade ago.

“Yes, I have it,” James replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’m fifteen, I can pack my own things.”

“You’re not giving your father attitude, are you?” Harry asked. James smiled cheekily at him. “Where’s Scorpius?” he asked Draco.

Draco frowned at him. “I thought he was with you.”

Harry stuck his head into the corridor. “Scorpius!”

“I’m coming!” shouted a voice from upstairs.

“Haven’t you got work?” Draco was asking Teddy.

“No, I’m taking a sick day to see Scorpius off for his first year. I don’t think Voldemort will rise from the dead on the one day I’m off.”

“Harry, help,” Draco whined. “They’re both giving me attitude.”

“Boys,” Harry warned, but there was a smile on his face. “It’s nothing you’re not used to though, eh?”

“I get enough of it from you.”

“But you love it,” Harry said, giving Draco a peck on the lips before turning back to the door. “Scorpius! We’re going to miss the train at this rate!”

Scorpius thumped down the stairs with a massive suitcase. “Sorry!”

“Packing light, I see,” Harry said. “You take after your father.”

They quickly took the Floo to King’s Cross Station and dodged around Muggles to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Harry spotted a familiar head of ginger hair. “Ron!”

Ron spun around and grinned at Harry. “Alright?” he greeted as he made his way over to them, Hermione and their two children in tow. Ron was no longer lanky, having filled out his height over the years. Hermione was very much the same: hair still frizzy, eyes still bright and intelligent yet tired. James immediately started talking excitedly to Rose.

“Hello Ron. And hello, Madam Minister,” Harry said.

Hermione blushed. “Stop. I’m trying not to let it get to my head.” They took it in turns to travel through the wall to the platform. “How are you, Teddy?” Hermione continued once they were all through.

Teddy grinned at her. “Not bad at all, boss. Working hard, as always.”

“Shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

“Working hard apart from today,” Teddy corrected. “Hey, I’m going to talk to Victoire, is that okay?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, go on.”

As they watched him go, Ron leaned over. “I give it a year before he asks her to marry him.”

“Six months,” Draco replied.

“We’d better get you all on the train,” Hermione said, leading them to an empty-looking compartment. Harry waved a greeting to Seamus and Dean as they walked past; they were dropping off their own daughter whom they’d adopted at around the same time Harry and Draco had adopted Scorpius. Speaking of whom…

Harry noticed that Scorpius was looking rather nervous. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked, kneeling down in front of him.

“What if I don’t make any friends?” Scorpius asked.

“I can promise you that that won’t happen,” Harry replied. “Even if you don’t make any friends on your first day, or in your first year. As long as you treat people with kindness and respect, you’ll end up leaving Hogwarts with some lifelong friends. Besides, your father loaded you up with sweets, didn’t he?”

Scorpius nodded. “He said sweets help make friends.”

“He’s right. I made friends with your Uncle Ron that way.”

“Dad… you were a Gryffindor, weren’t you?”

“I was.”

“And so’s James.”

“That’s right.”

“What if I’m not a Gryffindor? What if I get put in Slytherin?”

Harry frowned. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. You’ll be put in whatever house suits you the most. And if that happens to be Slytherin… your father was a Slytherin, and he didn’t turn out too bad. I married him, after all.”

“You’re not regretting that decision yet, are you?” Draco said behind Harry.

“Of course not, darling.”

Draco put a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder. “We’ll be proud of you, whatever house you get into. Now come on, both of you. The train’s about to leave.”

Harry helped Scorpius up into the train and then, after kissing Draco goodbye and waving farewell to Ron, Hermione, and Teddy, found a seat further down the train with the Head of Gryffindor House, Professor Longbottom. “Ready for another year, Harry?” Neville asked as the train started to move.

Harry waved out of the window at Draco and his other friends. “When am I not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're done! thank you for reading if you've got this far :) 
> 
> i just adore the concept of slightly nervous stay-at-home dad draco and his more laid back husband harry :,,,)

**Author's Note:**

> maybe leave a comment if you got this far?


End file.
